Paths To Entwine
by AylenBc
Summary: It's been eight years since the Cullens disappeared from Bella's life. At the age of twenty-six, now settled down in the cloudy city of Buffalo, she's more than content with the life she leads. But when someone from her forgotten past returns and brings her a warning, Bella finds herself standing at the crossroads of choices and decision once again. AU Bella x Carlisle
1. What The Day Brings

**The Twilight Saga is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing with her story a bit, and I'm blaming my obsession that happens to be called Carlisle Cullen. I don't own him, either; Stephenie Meyer enjoys the bliss of owning him. I have huge respect for her writing and all the wonderful characters she created.  
**

**English is not my native language, and I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes in the grammar. I do my best to keep them at minimum.  
**

**Without any further ramblings, here's the summary: The story takes place approximately eight years after Bella's birthday party in New Moon. Bella hasn't heard anything about any of the Cullens since then, and she's moved on with her life, now living in the city of Buffalo in the state of New York. At the age of twenty-six, she's more than content with her life, spending her days doing what she loves the most. A bookstore of her own added to a suitably calm and comfortable life equals a pattern she's completely satisfied with. Until one day...**

**Pairing: Bella/Carlisle**

**Rating: M for later chapters**

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**_We are what our thoughts have made us; so take care about what you think. _**

**_Words are secondary. _**

**_Thoughts live; they travel far._**

\- Swami Vivekananda -

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**What The Day Brings**

My eyes danced along the black letters printed on the page. Those letters became words; the words became sentences; the sentences became stories. And almost unexpectedly, images, dreams and feelings were brought into being. Words had a tendency to do that. There was almost something magical about it. It was strange how a simple sentence could make shivers dance up your spine and conjure up emotions you didn't even know that existed. But words did that. They had the power to leave an impression. They had a certain way to influence your way of thinking. They had a propensity to linger in your mind even to the point when it became impossible to forget them.

Words left behind scars, impressions, images – but more importantly, they left behind feelings. Emotions that had no way to be born without hearing the words first. Or without reading them. Or writing them. Or remembering them.

I closed the cover of the book with a smile, brushing my finger against the spine. After glancing at the name of the book once more, I placed it on the small holder in front of me, making sure it was straight. Glancing up, I looked out of the wide display window of the store, watching the flow of people passing by. One or two of them stopped to look ar the books more closely, but eventually they continued on their way without bothering to step inside the small bookstore.

I suppressed a sigh, allowing a wave of disappointment to wash over me. Then I left the feeling behind, crouching beside a large cardboard box close to me. It was full of copies of the new book that had gotten my interest a few weeks ago. The batch I had ordered had arrived today. The novel had gotten great reviews, and that's why I hoped I wasn't the only one interested in reading it. Maybe someone equally enchanted by words was on their way right now. Maybe that someone would buy a copy.

And if not, well... I suppose I had to sell them at a discount price. Again.

I kept on with my work, replacing the books that had sat behind the display window for the past week. I couldn't help but be a little biased when it came to the ones that adorned the window and lured in the customers; I sometimes tended to put my favorites on display.

Opening a new box, I pulled out a thin book with dark blue covers. _What The Day Brings_ was its name. After realizing that I hadn't read this one yet, I put one of the copies aside, deciding to delve into it as soon as I had the time. I exchanged the book with the one that had been sitting behind the window for the past days. Silently beginning to hum, I quickly read the names of the rest of the books before placing them on the metallic holders.

_Endings and Beginnings..._

_Returning Past..._

...and _Destined._

After placing the last copy on the holder, I exited the store to make sure that the row looked nice and orderly from outside. I tried to see the window from a customer's point of view, wondering if the store looked inviting enough. Looking through the window, I saw the familiar sight of the towering bookshelves filling the space. The store wasn't huge, and it didn't have an unlimited collection of literature like some places did. This store could be described with words like small and intimate – _homelike_.

And I loved it. I loved every single thing about the small store. I loved every old wooden shelf, every single book resting on them – even the ones I hadn't had the chance to read yet – and I even loved the huge spider under the counter that I was still too afraid to kill. I loved it all, and it was mine to love.

It hadn't always been that way, though. Getting to this point, to now be able to call the place my own, hadn't happened in a blink. It was strange, though, that when I had set my foot into the store for the very first time, I had known that I wanted to spend all of my days in a place like this. Already then there had been a certain feel to the place. As a person who lives and breathes literature, it had been almost too easy to imagine myself working in a place like this. Back then, I hadn't believed that the wish would come true someday, and certainly not this way. If someone had come up to me and said that one day I'd actually get to _own_ the place, I wouldn't have believed. Even the thought of working here had sounded too good to be true.

I had always had the tendency to live sparingly – it was a trait that I now found myself grateful of, because it eventually made it possible for me to buy the place. Not that I had been planning on buying a bookstore when I had started saving up. After high school and college and earning a little money on the side by working on evenings and weekends, I had decided to pack my bags and take a year or two off to travel.

Charlie had been against it – he had insisted that I either study more or get a proper job, but luckily I hadn't listened. Renée had been more positive about my little plans – I hadn't expected any less from her because of the adventurous nature she possessed - and she had even agreed to support me financially. I suppose she remembered better than Charlie what it was like to be young and thirsty for experiences. Her gesture had been very sweet, but I had refused to take her money, telling her that this was something I wanted to do on my own.

I still didn't quite know why it had felt so important. I suppose after years of living under certain rules and expectations, I had just wanted to be on my own for a while, to be able to decide myself where to go and what to do. It might have been some sort of pursuit of independence, although it had taken a while for me to admit it.

"You can be on your own without traveling around the world," Charlie had said to me on the phone, still disagreeing with my plans. I hadn't felt the need to get upset with him. I knew he had been just worried, probably maddening himself with all the possible dangers I could get into.

"I'm not traveling around the world," I had answered with a laugh. "Just around the US."

It had been easy to imagine the way Charlie had shaken his head. Then he had enumerated twenty other reasons why I shouldn't go, but none of them had been good enough for me.

"Fine," he had eventually consented with a deep sigh. Even through the phone, I had been able to sense his awkwardness as the next words of affection had left his lips. Charlie had never been too good with anything that had to do with feelings. "Just be careful, Bells," he haid said to me with a gruff voice. "Love you."

I had hung up the phone with a smile on my lips. And the next morning, I had said goodbye to Renée and Phil and to the beautiful house on the beach that had become my home during my years in college.

The world hadn't disappointed me, and it certainly hadn't forced me to wander very long. It hadn't taken me many weeks to come to conclusion that maybe experiences were something you shouldn't search – that they'd come along when they did. After a couple of months of traveling, sleeping in cheap motels and working temporary jobs that didn't pay nearly as much as they should have, I had suddenly found myself in the city of Buffalo in the state of New York.

I still remembered that day with perfect clarity. It had been pouring rain, and I had searched for a motel or some other shelter from the rain when the lights of the small bookstore had reached my eyes. At first I hadn't been aware that it was a bookstore I was going to set my foot into. I had thought it to be a pharmacy or a small convenience store.

The smell had been the first thing I had noticed after shaking the water off my clothes and wiping the raindrops from my face. The smell of paper and ink – it was always something that made the endorphins in my body to begin their dance towards the blood vessels. I had looked around me in the small, quaint store, and had instantly felt enchanted.

And a few days later after talking to the owner, I had started working there, not knowing how many wonderful years awaited me. How many wonderful moments I'd spend navigating between the old bookshelves. I hadn't known that I'd find myself here, years later, in the same place where I had accidentally stumbled in one rainy day.

I hadn't had a clue – but I guess life tended to be that way sometimes. Unpredictable and impossible to plan.

I had managed to get along with very little money, only spending it on necessities like food and rent. I had put aside most of my paychecks, saving as much as I had been able and possibly thought about more traveling in the future. But almost without noticing, I had begun to like the old city by the huge lake. And more importantly, I had begun to like the small, idyllic bookstore I was spending all my days in. The thought of traveling and even studying had begun to disappear from my mind as the months had passed by. And then the moment had arrived when I had realized that I really didn't want to leave anymore.

The realization had surprised me at first. Mostly because I hadn't thought myself to be able to settle down that easily. After all, I had left home so I could travel as much as I wanted. So I could test my own wings and live in a constant state of change and find out that there was nothing better than not knowing where I would be tomorrow. I hadn't left home because I had been searching for a place to stay. A place to _live_.

But later when I thought about it, I idly wondered if I had unconsciously craved just that.

I suppose I could say that my pursuit of independence had somewhat succeeded. It became much more than a pursuit. It became a life.

And so I had stayed. It was something I'd never find myself regretting. The years had gone by in a rush, and eventually the day had come when the owner of the bookstore had decided to retire. I had nearly fallen off the ladder I had been balancing on when she had offered to sell me the place. The owner didn't have children of her own, but she did have other relatives. That's why it had surprised me that she had come to me first instead of giving her business to her nieces and nephews.

I considered it as my one last step, as the one missing piece of the puzzle, when I had given her a positive response. I had all my savings to support my decision, and even though they hadn't been nearly enough to pay for the entire value of the store at once, I knew I had done the right thing for myself. It had been a scary decision to make, yes, but at the same time nothing had ever felt so right. And I knew myself; I knew what made me happy. This was definitely something that did, and I had decided to hold onto it.

I had never found myself regretting my decision, even though the money was sometimes tight. I still had some more left to pay for the store, and I knew it'd take a long while before I had managed to pay everything I owed. My income was just enough to get by and to pay scheduled amounts to the previous owner to keep her happy. Not that she was breathing down my neck or anything – on the opposite. She was very flexible when it came to money issues, understanding that no one bought a bookstore just like that. I had a feeling that she was happy to have a book fanatic like me to continue her work.

All in all, everything was well in my life. Everything was more than well – I felt lucky to be able to wake up everyday and know that I got to do something I loved more than anything. Books and reading had always been my passion, but I had never thought they'd someday earn me my living.

Returning from the memories back to the present, I made my way back inside. The small bell above the door jingled as I stepped in – I was very fond of the sound. It added its own nice feel to the store.

After arranging the rest of the books on the shelves and taking the empty boxes to the recycling container, I sat down behind the counter, flipping open one of the books I hadn't had the time to finish. Sometimes the days were so busy that I barely had any time to sit down, but on days like these when books didn't seem to interest anyone, I usually made my time pass with reading. I had to know what I was selling to people, after all. Or that's what I usually liked to tell myself as an excuse when I began to feel lazy.

The bell above the door jingled suddenly. I glanced up from the text and expected to see a customer entering.

But it wasn't a customer stepping inside – it was someone else. I'd bet the meager money I had on the fact that he wasn't here to buy a book. Because if I ever I saw him voluntarily take a book in his hand, I'd dance around the block naked and sing _Jingle Bells_ as loud as I could. That's how sure I was of it. If it didn't have pictures on it, it was too boring to look at.

I gave a wry grin at the man who had entered, setting my book aside.

"Adrian," I greeted.

The young man standing by the door had short brown hair and eyes that were the same shade of deep brown. He let the door bang closed behind him, then stomped across the floor with a grin on his face. I knew that expression – he had something cheeky to say, as always. I estimated that at least half of the things that came out of his mouth were either jokes or otherwise spoken with a tongue in cheek.

Adrian sauntered closer, casually putting his glove-covered hands in his pockets. "You know," he began, "I'd very much like to talk to you and ask you how your day's been and so on, but the line of customers you have in here is so _long_ that I don't know if my turn ever comes."

Tapping my fingers against the counter, I threw him a sour smile. "Very funny," I answered, glancing around me in the hopelessly empty store. "It's just one of those days. A little more quiet than usually."

Adrian leaned his elbow against the counter, glancing at the bookshelves and the empty spaces between them. "Quiet, you say?" he asked sarcastically. "Bella, this place is _deserted._"

"It won't be tomorrow," I insisted, walking to the backroom of the store to pour him a cup of coffee.

"Just sayin'," I heard him mumbling. "Maybe it's time you rethink this whole bookstore thing."

"I'm not going to rethink anything," I sighed, walking back to him with the coffee. Adrian took it, groaning a small thanks. He looked a bit more tired than usually; I wondered if he had a long day behind him. He was working on a construction site somewhere in the city, and he had probably been awake twice as long as I had today.

"And besides," I continued, my hands searching for the floor brush out of habit. I sweeped the floors of the store quickly, but there wasn't much to sweep. It really had been a quiet day. "You're just jealous because I have a permanent job and you don't."

Adrian began to cough, apparently choking on his coffee. I didn't know if it happened because he was so surprised by my comment or because he was laughing so hard. I guessed it was the latter – I knew it from experience.

Casting a bored look at his direction, I abandoned the brush and sat behind the counter again, waiting for him to recover from his coughing spell. Smiling sweetly at him all the while he tried to get some air into his lungs, I leaned my chin to my palm, watching his red face and quirking my brow expectanty.

We had a strange relationship, Adrian and I. I had known him for a couple of years, and I felt like he had been my friend from the first day I had met him. He was now twenty-seven years old which made him one year older than me. There had once been a time we had been so alike, but not anymore. Most of the time we were like day and night, always bickering and bantering about everything but still getting along very well. We'd had our storms, there was no doubt of that – I still remembered the insane crush I'd had on him soon after I had gotten to know him. The feeling had been mutual, and what had started out as a friendship had become something more as the time had passed. But we had our differences, and later we had learned that the one only thing we really had in common was our stubbornness. It wasn't a good combination. Two persons with the same amount of obstinacy and fiercely different personalities was a doomed match from the start.

And so the strangers had become friends, friends had become lovers, and eventually lovers had become friends again after realizing that friendship was a much easier thing to accomplish. It was the better option for the both of us. Of course I still cared about Adrian, but anything romatic I had sometime felt for him had disappeared a long time ago. It was strange how life kept us learning, constantly throwing something in our way – people, occurences, a bookstore – and that way taught us things about ourselves we hadn't even been aware of. Something was constantly guiding us to the right direction, but we just failed to see it at first. Like my relationship with Adrian, some things just weren't meant to be. No one had told me that at the beginning. No one had given me a straight advice. I'd been forced to learn it, just like everything else.

Adrian pushed the coffee cup away, still gasping for breath. "Jealous?" he managed to wheeze. "You think I'm jealous of _this_? Sitting inside a bookstore from day to day and denying myself fresh air – _forever_?"

I rolled my eyes at his comment, knowing he was only teasing me. While he might not be able to understand the passion I had for my work, I knew that deep down he respected me and my bold decision to buy the store. Adrian was one of those people who strove for making things and dreams happen. I didn't know anyone else with that kind of an ability to live in the moment.

I reached out for his left hand, pulling his glove off.

"Look at you," I teased, waving the glove that was nearly worn through. "You must have been actually working today to make these scuff up like this. And I thought you're just running your mouth out there."

Adrian bridled, shaking his head. "Nah," he said. "It's too noisy for any mouth running. No one would hear me. That's why I need to discharge all this pent-up sarcasm on you."

"Lucky me," I smiled, throwing the glove back at him. "How many weeks do you have left?"

"Only two or three," Adrian smiled, shrugging. "And then..." he paused for effect, "these gloves are coming off for the last time."

"You do realize you sound like you're going to beat someone up instead of just celebrating the ending of your job?"

"It's not my _job_," Adrian said, stressing the last word. "This was only temporary. You know, one last little suffering before the actual fun begins. You gotta pay your dues."

I smiled at his choice of words, suddenly a little sad. "I can't believe you're really leaving."

Adrian quirked his brow. "If you really miss me that much, why don't you come with me?"

Laughing, I took the empty coffee cup that sat on the counter, going to the backroom to rinse it. "Yeah, right," I murmured. "You don't even know where you're going yet."

"I don't. That's the best part."

I shook my head, smiling. Turning to look at him, I realized he hadn't changed a bit from the day I had first met him all that time ago. He was still that same bundle of energy he had been even then, never able to stay still. He never accepted a job that lasted longer than two months, claiming that he'd die out of boredom if he did. He needed constant changes in his life, and the thought of settling down simply horrified him. These past three or so years that he had been spending here, in the uneventful city of Buffalo, was probably his personal record when it came to living somewhere. It was a wonder he had been able to stay so long in one place – and it was even a bigger wonder he hadn't gone out of his mind.

I suppose that's why I had liked him so much when I had met him. I had seen a lot of myself in him back then. But if Adrian had stayed the same all these years, I hadn't. Had I been like him by my nature – or hadn't I gone through that mysterious process of changing and growing – who knows. I might still be together with him, and we'd be probably be traveling God knows where even right now.

The thought didn't make me awfully melancholy. I knew the path I must walk, and I knew it wasn't the same path Adrian had in front of him.

"Of course I'll miss you," I answered, walking back to him. I began to put out the lights and prepared to close the store. "But I know that this is where I'm supposed to be. And you know it, too."

Suddenly Adrian didn't even try to crack a joke. It was very unlike him. "Yeah," he murmured quietly. "I know."

We stood there for a while, two persons who had once been so alike, but had found that the years had changed only the other. It made me realize that Adrian hadn't changed because he didn't have to. The man I had met over three years ago had already been the person who he was supposed to be. He hadn't changed and grown, because he had already been there. It had been _me_ who had lacked that certain knowledge about myself; it had been me who had needed to grow and change, to become the person I was supposed to be.

And I had. I thought about the girl who had packed her bags after graduating college, only with her mother's encouragements and her father's warnings in her ears. Smiling at the memory, I wondered how different my life would be now if I hadn't stubbornly decided to leave that day.

Would I have continued studying, started up a career and maybe met someone down the road? Would I be living somewhere else, far away from this city I had grown such a liking to? Would I have a house and a family instead of the small, cheap apartment and the old bookstore? Would I fall asleep every night next to someone instead of chasing dreams all alone?

I didn't know. But not having an answer to all those questions didn't really bother me. I couldn't imagine my life to be any different from this. I was happy, despite all those things that were missing from my life. Family, love – those things were something that just felt so faraway at the moment. I had never dreamed about having children, but I had never denied the possibility of having them if the time happened to come some day. My feelings were rather neutral about the whole matter.

And what came to love... I sometimes felt like I simply had poor luck with it. Eventually it was easy to accept that maybe love was something that wasn't meant for me. It didn't sadden me – not really. And it certainly didn't make me feel like I was missing out on something.

Because I felt like I was living my own ideal. It wasn't some overly planned, carefully thought out and precisely defined life; it was my own, and I had made it. Not planned it, because you shouldn't plan your life. You just had to live it without making it feel like a task. Because life wasn't a performance or an exam you had to pass with straight A's.

Putting out the rest of the lights but leaving on the ones lighting up the display window, I turned to Adrian, checking my pockets for my keys. At the last minute I remembered to lock up the cash register and put aside the receipts. I quickly wrote down what I had managed to earn today. The small amount made me grimace – it really had been a quiet day. I liked to keep a precise record of my incomes and expenses, even though the numbers were sometimes depressing and didn't look as good as they should have. But I had learned not to stress about it too much. Things always had the tendency to work out on their own. This week might be quiet, but the next one would be better. It always was. People would never stop reading books – it was one of those things that simply never changed.

"Are you ready to go?" Adrian asked, making his way to the door. I nodded, grabbing my coat and following him outside. The air was getting cooler, and I lifted up my collars as I shut the door behind me. I tried the handle twice to make sure it was locked.

Before continuing down the sidewalk, I glanced one more time at the brightly-lit display window, once more looking over the books I had earlier arranged behind the glass. _What the day brings, Endings and Beginnings, Returning Past _and...

"_Destined,_" Adrian whispered with a dramatic tone, tapping the window with his forefinger.

I smacked his arm, otherwise ignoring his teasing. There was something about the names of those books that made shivers run up my spine. That's why I had chosen to put them up. I couldn't grasp the strange feeling, however, and I couldn't explain it even if I had wanted. Maybe I wasn't supposed to; they were words, after all. They conjured up images, impressions, feelings... things that weren't supposed to be described verbally.

I turned away from the window, trying to shake away the peculiar feeling. But when I noticed that I couldn't get rid of it, I simply carried it with me, allowing the shivers to dance up and down my spine.

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**AN: **And there you go. It was rather effortless and so much fun to write this chapter. I've always wanted to write Bella like this, as a person with self-confidence and integrity. There's some information in this chapter about Bella's life before she came to Buffalo, and I'm sure some of you wondered why there was no mention of Edward or the other Cullens. The reason is that Bella simply didn't feel need to include any of them in her inner rambling. I wanted the reader to know that she's rarely thinking about the Cullens; the time she spent with them in Forks is simply something she's left behind. There will be some self-reflection in the upcoming chapters that deals with this topic and her feelings concerning the Cullens' abrupt departure from her life.

Adrian was someone I absolutely wanted to add to the story to let the reader know that what happened with Edward didn't traumatize Bella in any way. Despite what happened after she fell in love for the first time, she doesn't feel the need to guard her heart and be afraid of relationships. Her luck with the love department hasn't been too good so far, but she doesn't let it chain her in any way.

Let me know what you think!


	2. Returning Past

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

**AN: Thank you for the wonderful reviews, I'm so excited to hear the first chapter caught your interest! Hopefully the second one hooks you even more... ;)**

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**_"No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected."_**

\- Julius Caesar -

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**Returning Past**

"I'll walk you home," Adrian offered, glancing at the evening sky and probably searching for any signs of rain. The end of October was nearing quickly, and it wouldn't have surprised me if I suddenly had to regret the fact that I had forgotten my umbrella at my apartment this morning.

"You know you don't have to," I answered, turning my back to the bookstore and the brighty-illuminated display window. "I know how early your mornings are. You're probably tired."

Adrian shook his head, smirking. I had to wonder where he got all that energy. "I'm happy to do it," he assured. "It's getting dark soon and I don't want you to get into any trouble."

"I walk this same route every day." I gave a laugh, shaking my head at his worry. "And so far no one has tried to kill me and eat me even though I always walk alone."

Our steps took us to the park that was located beside Lake Erie. I watched the restless waves racing with each other and stopped as I saw a small gap appearing to the thick veil of clouds. The setting sun peeked through it, far away near the horizon.

"It's still not wise of you to walk all alone to the store and back home every day," Adrian disagreed. "You should get a car or use the bus or something."

"I can afford neither," I murmured distractedly, not paying much attention to his ranting. I poked Adrian with my elbow so he'd fall silent and watch the beautiful scenery as long as it lasted.

"And besides, how on earth do you think you're able to move away if you're already worrying about me?" I asked, giving a small laugh as I watched the light dancing on the restless waves.

"I don't know," Adrian admitted, shrugging. "I suppose I just have to trust you to take care of yourself. You kind of have to because I don't know if I'll ever come back."

I glanced at his face. The light of the setting sun reflected from his dark brown eyes. "I'll look after myself," I promised. "I always have. You've never hovered over me before and if you start now, I swear I'll be the one to put you on the bus or on the train or on the boat or whatever transportation you're going to use to get out of this tedious town you hate so much."

"I'll take the bus," Adrian grinned, now beginning to sound like himself again. "Although, a boat is not such a bad idea... Or hey! A canoe!"

I sighed, wondering if I had accidentally made myself accountable for his death if he happened to drown.

The sun hid behind the clouds again, but I could see the faint orange light filtering through the grey veil. I silently fretted that I didn't have a camera with me. The sun was a rare sight in a cloudy city like this. Even _faint_ sunlight that was barely visible through the clouds was a rare sight.

I clutched the railing that rimmed the long walkway and prevented anyone from falling into the lake. The metal was cold under my palms and I shuddered, fumbling to close the zipper of my coat. The weather was getting really cold. The winter was nearing rapidly – there was no denying of that.

I allowed myself a moment to look away from the fading light. Another shudder rippled through me, but this time it felt somehow different. I wondered if I was coming down with a cold. I certainly hoped not.

I glanced at my left, about to suggest Adrian that we should continue on our way; I wanted to go home. But something stopped me before the words got out. I narrowed my eyes in the dim light of the late afternoon as something caught my attention.

It was a figure standing in the shadows of a small birch tree several dozen yards away. I was about to turn my gaze away, thinking that someone else had been admiring the short apperance of the sun as well. But there was something familiar about the distant figure – possibly the posture. I looked again, narrowing my eyes to sharpen my vision. The fading light didn't make the task any easier.

The figure – a man, I now saw – moved. Taking two calm and deliberate steps forward, he stepped away from the shadows, revealing himself to me completely. He was still far away, but close enough for the suspicion to wake up somewhere deep inside of me.

There wasn't just something familiar about the figure.

There was nothing _foreign_ about the man watching me from the shadows. I stared, trying to distinguish the eyes of peculiar shade of golden, but I was too far away. But I didn't need to see his eyes to know their color. It was something that was an absolute certainty to me, something I knew for sure. Something that was familiar. Too familiar.

I saw the motion on his head as he nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. The gesture was meant as a greeting, but I was too shocked to even blink my eyes. My mind refused to believe what my eyes were seeing, because what I saw was simply against everything I should believe, against everything I ever could expect.

My lips wanted to form a name – to whisper it, to shout it, to make myself trust in my own eyes. But I couldn't speak. My lips were mute but my mind wasn't; it called forth the name my lips had wanted to shape. It called forth the name I had nearly forgotten by now. After all, it belonged to an entirely different lifetime.

_Carlisle Cullen._

There it was again; the feel of familiarity. If seeing him suddenly standing in the darkening evening hadn't shocked me so much, I'd have probably felt something else too. Nostalgia, perhaps.

I felt a soft nudge on my elbow, but it wasn't enough to pull me back from the feeling. From the memories of the small town where the trees were too green and the rain was too wet. From the past that I had left behind a long time ago.

Why had it returned now?

"Bella? Bells?"

Adrian's voice was somewhere far away, but close enough for me to come back. I glanced at him quickly, then looked away again to search the shadows of the birch tree with my eyes. To see the familiar person from my past who had suddenly decided to return.

Except... he wasn't there anymore.

Frowning and narrowing my eyes in the dimmening evening, I turned my head, sweeping the park with my gaze. But I saw no one.

"Are you ready to go?" Adrian asked, poking me again with his elbow. "What's up? What are you looking for?"

"I..."

My answer was left unfinished. Confusion washed over me as I gazed around the empty park, idly wondering if I had gone crazy. Maybe I suffered from lack of sleep – I had the habit of staying up way too late and getting up early in the morning before the sunrise. But was I really this tired? That I actually began to see hallucinations?

"Bella?"

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath, only now realizing that my heart was nearly racing out of my chest. "I thought I saw someone," I murmured to Adrian, too confused to cook up a quick lie to explain my sudden frantic urge to scout the park.

"Who?" Adrian asked, now looking around the park as well.

I shook my head, waving my hand in a frustrated manner. "Someone I used to know a long time ago," I answered, gazing at the shadows of the birch tree where I had seen the familiar man. "A really long time ago."

Adrian frowned, throwing a dubious glance at me. "I don't see anyone," he stated the obvious.

"It was probably nothing," I shook my head. "The light must have played tricks on my eyes."

"You mean the lack of light?" Adrian chuckled. "It's getting difficult to see." He glanced at me with a frown, tilting his head to the side. "Should I be concerned about the fact that you see things that don't exist?"

"Very funny," I murmured at his jest, still distracted. Still captured by the memory of golden eyes. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I was mistaken."

_Maybe I only imagined it_, I added to myself.

After glancing one more time towards the shadows of the tree, I turned and began to walk to the direction where my apartment was. It was easy to tell myself that it had only been my imagination. That it had only been a trick played by my own mind.

The walk to my apartment seemed slow and long. Adrian kept babbling about something beside me, and I pretended to listen, smiling and laughing at his jokes every once in a while. But truthfully, my thoughts were on something else entirely.

If it had been only my imagination, why had it happened? Why would I suddenly imagine something like that? I racked my brain, wondering when was the last time I had even thought about any of them. I realized that it must have been years – it surprised me a bit.

I wondered how it was possible that so much time had passed since my mind had even briefly dwelled on the Cullens. Of course I hadn't forgotten about them – not completely. That short time I had spent with them all that time ago was simply what it was – a part of my past. I had accepted that I had no way to change it, and I didn't even want to. There had been a time when I had felt very differently about it. I had felt regret and sadness about them. About them meeting me, about me meeting them... about everything that had been after. Edward's departure from my life had only reminded me how perishable everything in life was. That nothing lingered. And that's why you had to grasp at every chance and live in the moment. It had been yet another lesson for me to learn; yet another thing life had tried to teach me. And I'd had no choice but to learn or to walk away from it. I had tried to do more than just learn; I had tried to appreciate. Appreciate those few short months I had spent with him, with all of them, and tried to believe that maybe their brief presence in my life did have a meaning behind it.

So after a certain amount of time had passed, and after going through those usual feelings you went through after the end of a relationship – shock, denial, anger, even depression – I had eventually been able to accept. Accept that all that had happened didn't need to be the end of the world. It had been only the end of something that maybe wasn't even supposed to be. Out of sight, out of mind – the simple phrase was more valid than I had even believed.

It had been sort of a relief to get to that stage eventually. The whole process had been about endless amount of tears and moments of bitterness, about sitting in a rollercoaster cart from the beginning to the end without stopping to catch my breath. It hadn't been smooth sailing, but I guess it wasn't supposed to be. But eventually I had gotten there. I had reached that much-talked-about acceptance. What had made it all easier was to know that it was all in the past now. That it'd never come back. And I wouldn't have to stress myself out because I'd never see any of them again. They were officially out of my life.

Maybe that's why the acceptance had eventually come so easily. The awareness of the fact that they'd never return had been alleviating.

Shaking myself from my musings, I couldn't help but glance behind my shoulder. The evening was cool and dark, and I saw nothing but trees shedding their leaves. Shaking my head, I couldn't help but laugh at myself. Of course it had been only my imagination what had happened earlier. It couldn't have been anything else.

Adrian kept talking about his plans when he'd get out of the city, but I wasn't buying them – not yet, anyway. His plans would change a million times by the time he even actually managed to leave. Sudden sadness filled me when I thought about it. I had known him almost as long as I had lived in Buffalo. It really was a shame he was such a restless soul. Or then it was a shame that I was so content where I was.

Adrian tried to warm his fingers by breathing into his hands. "Chilly," I heard him saying. "Remember to dress warmly tomorrow. It's freezing."

"You're such a sissy," I teased him. "It's not that cold."

"Yes, it is," he insisted. "This is why I'm so glad to get out of here. There are so many warm places in America that it's stupid even to consider staying here. My offer still stands," he added, winking. "If you ever get fed up with all this rain and cold... and boring books..."

"I won't," I assured him. "I can't imagine living anywhere but here."

"It's your suffering," Adrian mumbled, turning to an alley with small trees growing on both sides. He walked me to the end of the alley, and we stopped as we reached my small apartment. It wasn't a huge block of flats you usually saw in cities, but a separate small house, more likely. If one could call it a house – the place was so small that I could bet that someone might have a larger bathroom than the entire apartment was. But I didn't complain. Even though the space was limited and the place was a little isolated, the rent was cheap. And it wasn't just about the low-priced rent - I really loved the simple apartment. It was my home.

"Thanks for walking me all the way," I told Adrian, ready to bid him goodnight.

"No problem," he answered. "I still disagree with you, though. I don't like it that you walk to work and back home all alone."

"Quit fussing," I sighed. "You know I hate it. And there's no reason for you to worry. I think you're nervous just because you know you're leaving soon and then you can't boss me around anymore," I teased.

Adrian shrugged, a familair grin making the other side of his mouth quirk. "Could be," he admitted.

Sighing, I hesitated as I dug out my keys, turning to him one more time. "Will I be able to see you? Before...?"

"Probably," he nodded. "I'm working nearly around the clock for the next days, but I was hoping if you could help me with my stuff when I get on the bus? I'll inform you when once I know it myself."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course. But I still don't understand how you're going to manage with huge amounts luggage with you. How will you be able to tow them around from place to place?"

"I never claimed that I was going _backpack _around the US or anything," Adrian nudged my elbow, smirking like always. "I'll take as much as I can carry and along the way I ditch everything I don't need."

"That sounds ecological," I laughed, imagining him dumping his stereos on a train station or something. "You little conservationist."

Adrian huffed. "How dare you call me that. That's the most terrible thing anyone's ever said to me."

I chuckled at his jest, exchanging a few more words with him. Then we bid each other goodnight, and I followed Adrian with my gaze as he walked to the end of the alley, turned left and continued to his own apartment.

I stood in silence after he had disappeared, glancing around me. Turning my back to the dark alley shadowed by the trees, I began to search for the right key to get inside. I closed my eyes, trying to shake the feeling that still kept returning. The feeling that wouldn't leave me alone.

I looked over my shoulder towards the dark tree alley. And I saw nothing.

"Don't be stupid," I whispered to myself, pushing the key into the lock. But I didn't turn it. Because something kept stopping me.

_It was just my imagination_, I kept telling myself. _It wasn't real._

Or was it?

Once more, I turned to face the dark alley, pulling the keys out of the lock. Glancing at my right and left and making sure that no one was witnessing my moment of insanity, I took a step forward.

"I know you're there," I called out, feeling like an idiot. No one in their right mind shouted into the darkness – especially when there was nobody there to hear it. But my lips kept moving. I had to be absolutely sure. "I saw you!" I kept hollering. My voice quieted down, and I continued with a normal volume. Not that it mattered. "You know I did."

I waited. It was very silent – only the traffic of the streets could be heard not very far away. It was a sound I had gotten used to, and therefore it barely existed to me. So I was left with only the silence of the alley and the sound of my quiet breaths as I inhaled and exhaled. Still waiting for something that wasn't even there.

I shook my head, feeling both relieved and chagrined. I told you so, the all knowing part of my consciousness whispered to me. Turning to the door, I began to fiddle with the keys again.

Then I felt it. The cool current of air that brushed against my neck, making the shivers run up my spine. I turned around in an instant. The keys jingled as they slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground at the same time as a loud, startled cry escaped my lips.

"Jeez!"

I raised my palm to my chest, my back pressing against the door. Trying to even out my breaths, I stared at the man who had suddenly decided to appear from the silence of the night. I was too shocked to say anything rational. My heart kept beating frantically, the rush of adrenaline not only making me alert but also very short-tempered.

"Don't do that!" I heard myself shouting. "For heaven's sake!"

Carlisle had taken a step back. He raised his other hand, gesturing placatingly. "I'm very sorry," I apologized quietly. "I had no intention to frighten you. You were calling out – and I thought that you were aware of my presence."

Hearing his smooth voice caused me to be taken aback for a moment. I'd never get used to the way their voice sounded. The memories I had long ago left behind didn't do justice to the sound of his tenor.

I forced the bewilderment out of my mind.

"I thought I only imagined you earlier," I managed to say, now sounding a little calmer. But indignation was still present in my tone. I didn't even try to hide it – that's what you got for sneaking behind people in supernatural speed.

"I'm terribly sorry," Carlisle said again. "I did not mean to startle you such way. It was foolish of me to move so quickly." He glanced at the ground where I had dropped my keys, reaching down to pick them up. Then he offered them to me, watching my reaction.

I took the keys without meeting his gaze. I was still too perplexed to know how to react. What was he doing here? After all this time?

Carlisle took a step back again, apparently wanting to respect my personal space. I raised my gaze from the ground, studying the man with blond, swept-back hair and golden eyes. I studied the pale skin of his cheeks, the serious expression on his face... And I suddenly felt like I had stepped into a time capsule. It had been eight years – eight, long years – and yet it seemed like no time had passed. He looked exactly the same. Nothing about his appearance had changed. It shouldn't have been a surprise for me, but for some reason it was. The notion was just difficult to comprehend – you saw someone you had seen nearly ten years ago, and naturally you expected some sort of change to have happened.

But there was none. Eight years hadn't changed him a bit.

Carlisle was studying me as well. I wondered how much eight years had changed me; how far I was from the insecure teenager he had once known.

Far, I thought. I wasn't the eighteen-year-old girl I had been the last time he saw me. The one who had dreamed about the endless life of an immortal, the one who had been ready to give up her whole future for the love she had felt for a person who was forever trapped inside the body of a seventeen-year-old. That person had been a man in many ways, but also just a boy. And I hadn't been an adult, either. I hadn't been mature the way the situation would have demanded. I had been so sure about myself, ready to give up everything I had known, everything that was important. Charlie, Renée, Phil... I shook my head at the thought, not able to understand the landscape of the soul of that young girl.

I wasn't that eighteen-year-old anymore. I was still the same person, but in different ways. Grown ways. The years had done that – the years I'd have given up so easily back then.

I was suddenly very happy that I hadn't.

Letting out a deep breath, I lowered the hand that I held over my chest. Carlisle noticed the small change in my stance, venturing to search my eyes.

"I apologize again," he said quietly, seeming truly sorry he had scared me like that.

"It's fine," I breathed, feeling my heart beginning to calm down. "It's not like you gave me a stroke or anything."

Carlisle smiled at my poor jest. There was something forced in the expression; the smile didn't reach his eyes. It barely reached his lips. I wondered again about the reason for his seriousness. As a person, Carlisle had always been warm and compassionate beyond anything, and this new atmosphere around him felt very foreign. There was some odd seriousness in him, something that hadn't been before. The air around him exuded it.

He turned his head to look behind him, as if to observe his surroundings. His demeanor wasn't nervous, but oddly tense.

I decided to break the lasting silence. Now when the initial shock began to fade, I was able to wonder what he was doing here. He surely had a good reason – otherwise he wouldn't have come.

"Why are you here?" I asked, causing Carlisle to turn his gaze away from the trees behind him. "I'm sure this isn't just a social call." There it was again, in my voice; indignation. I wasn't sure what to think about his presence. What to feel. Carlisle was supposed to belong to that certain part of my past. To that one, simple part that hadn't even lasted that long. And the past shouldn't return – especially if you had made an effort to leave it behind you.

Carlisle wetted his lips. I was sure it was a human habit he had learned over the long decades. "I'm sure my presence is not something you knew to expect," he began slowly, searching my eyes. "And I know my sudden appearance may upset you. I understand it completely." He paused for a moment, searching for words. "But I wouldn't have come unless it had been absolutely necessary."

The last sentence was probably meant to convey that he apologized for his presence, but my mind interpreted it differently. Words escaped my lips before I had the chance to stop them.

"Well I'm sorry you felt the need to come," I heard myself saying. My voice was surprisingly calm despite the chagrin I felt. "I'm sure it must be terrible for you to be in my presence."

Carlisle shook his head. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. You misunderstood." He fell silent, glancing around him again quickly. "I meant that I'm sorry to disturb you like this. It's not right that I have to, after all this time. I have no wish to bring trouble to you. To intrude your life."

I felt my features softening a bit, noticing that I had folded my arms across my chest. The defensive posture wasn't overlooked by Carlisle.

"Why are you here, then?" I asked again. Curiosity began to conquer the annoyance. I found myself studying Carlisle's face again, trying to interpret his expressions.

"There's something you need to know," he answered. "And as I said before, I wouldn't have come unless it was important. But it is, and you're the last person who should be kept in the dark about it." He hesitated, watching my reaction. "For your own safety."

I quirked my brow in disbelief. "My safety?" I asked. "Do you care to elaborate a bit?"

Carlisle glanced around him again. It was almost as though he was constantly fearing to be overheard by someone.

I let my arms to drop from my chest. "Maybe you should come inside," I suggested, even though I doubted that a set of walls could prevent anyone of his species from eavesdropping. Although, I didn't even know if it was a vampire he was worried about. Maybe there was another reason for his tense demeanor.

Carlisle hesitated at my words. "I'd better not," he declined. "I don't wish to intrude."

"You're not intruding when I'm inviting you in," I assured, feeling my fingers going numb from the cold. Turning to the door, I began to open the lock. "And besides, I'm freezing out here."

I shivered as the warm air surged to greet me. Carlisle hesitated for a moment more before coming inside after me. He closed the door behind him, gazing around him uncertainly.

I had to wonder what he thought about my tiny apartment. For a man who had gotten used to living in huge houses and mansions, it must have felt like he had just stepped into a closet or something. I saw him gazing around the living room that was attached to the kitchen. That pretty much described it all. In addition to this room, the apartment consisted of one bedroom and the bathroom down the hall. I also had a small library – well, at least I liked to call it a library. How else could I describe a room that was so full books they barely fit on the shelves?

I gestured Carlisle to step further. He hesitated again. There was almost something shy about his behaviour.

"I know it's a little cramped," I offered to say, instantly wanting to kick myself. I shouldn't have to apologize because I happened to live in a small apartment.

Carlisle frowned, shaking his head. "I think it's wonderful," he stated, and it sounded like he really meant it. But his tone was distracted, almost like he was deep in thought.

Shrugging the coat off, I went to sit down in one of the armchairs, telling Carlisle to sit down as well. He chose the couch, keeping his usual distance. It was almost like he was afraid to sit too close to me. Maybe he was afraid I'd punch him or something.

I looked at him under my brow, suddenly thinking that maybe this was just a dream. It felt like it. It seemed surreal that I had a vampire sitting on the couch of my tiny living room.

Carlisle gave me a questioning glance as he noticed my scrutiny.

Shaking my head, I decided to be honest with him.

"I can't bring myself to believe that you're actually here," I murmured, reaching out for the book that sat on the coffee table. I began to fiddle with it, suddenly feeling the need to do something with my hands. I glanced up to see his reaction; he was very quiet.

Carlisle was gazing at me with his ochre eyes. "I understand it might be difficult to believe," he said quietly. "Considering how... abruptly we left." He paused, an ironic smile curving his lips now. "I'm actually very surprised that you're taking my sudden appearance so calmly. I expected..." He shook his head, pausing.

"What did you expect" I asked, curious.

Carlisle laced his fingers, leaning slightly forward. "Anger," he stated, turning to look at me again. "Mostly that."

"You thought I was going to start raging at you when you showed up?"

He didn't answer. He fixed his eyes upon the wooden coffee table, once again seeming to be at a loss of words. But his silence managed to answer my question pretty well.

I drew in a breath, leaning my elbow on the arm of the chair. "I guess... I guess if you had showed up a few years earlier, I probably would have been pretty mad," I confessed.

Carlisle glanced at me. "But now?" he asked.

I shrugged, struggling to find an answer. Struggling to find out what my current feelings were. I was still so surprised about his sudden arrival that I was just mostly confused.

"Eight years is a long time," I eventually managed to answer. "Not for you, maybe," I added under my breath. "But it's a very long time to carry anger with you. It's not healthy to do that."

Carlisle seemed to listen carefully. "I agree that it's been a long time," he stated quietly. A small frown furrowed his brow. "But are you not at all resentful, then? Does it not upset you that I am here?"

I thought about his question, hoping that I had a clear answer to give him. Something that explained everything I had in my mind. "I'm confused," I finally confessed. "I don't know what to make of this. I can't understand why you're suddenly back."

Carlisle nodded. "I see. I realize the situation musn't be pleasant for you. And I must apologize again for interfering in your life like this. If we had an option, we would have left you in peace."

It felt strange that he kept apologizing for that. After all, I had never been the one who had asked them to leave in the first place. He made it sound like I had begged them to leave me alone and now I was upset because he had suddenly returned.

The thought made me realize that even though I wasn't angry anymore, I was a little hurt by their actions. How could I not? Even though my life after getting over Edward had been great and fulfilling, it still vexed me that it had been so easy for him to leave me. And it wasn't just about him. I guess it bothered me that the whole family had agreed to leave me behind and do it without a blink.

"Are you alone?" I asked, a little relieved that at least one emotion had become clear to me. "Or are the others here as well?"

A strange expression passed on Carlisle's face, but it was gone before I managed to decipher it. "Not everyone," he answered evasively.

I nodded, idly hoping that I wouldn't have to meet the rest of his family too soon. At least not right away – I had to sort out my feelings about it before even considering the matter. And besides, I had to wonder if they even wanted to see _me_. From Carlisle's words I figured that unless something compelling hadn't come up, he wouldn't have come to see me in the first place.

Carlisle was looking around the living room, his eyes finding a row of photographs sitting on the table across the room. Familiar faces observed the room from the wooden frames; my parents, old and forgotten friends I had gone to college with, Adrian and me a few weeks after we had met... there were even a couple of landscape pictures I had taken during my traveling before coming to Buffalo.

A tiny smile lifted the other side of Carlisle's mouth as he studied the pictures. It was the first, genuine smile I had witnessed from him during the evening. Then he turned to look at me, beginning to measure me with his gaze from head to toe, and again I had to wonder how much I had changed since the last time we had been in the same room. Physically I still looked pretty same – or that's what I thought. My hair was maybe a bit longer, my face a little less round and childlike. I was still slender but no longer awfully skinny and bony like I had been as a teenager.

Suddenly I felt self-conscious under Carlisle's gaze. I cleared my throat, trying to figure out something to say. But he was faster. Soft, quiet words floated in the quiet living room as he spoke.

"How have you been?" he asked. I wondered why he felt the need for the small talk, but then I realized that he seemed truly interested.

I shrugged, tapping the book in my hand with my fingers. "Good," I answered shortly. If he was waiting for some deep and thorough life story, I'd have to disappoint him.

Carlisle sensed my reluctance. He gazed at the floor, an expression on his face that I could only describe as regretful. A small sting of guilt made me want to take the curt answer back. Carlisle had been always so kind to me, and something told me that he wasn't the one who deserved any possible resentment I might still harbor.

I was just about to apologize and ask in return how he had been, but he lifted his gaze, a timid smile on his lips. He drew in a deep breath, beginning to search for words.

"I'm sure you're getting impatient to know why I've appeared back into your life so suddenly," he began, not waiting for my answer. "The reason for my sudden arrival is the unexpeted occurence that took place some time ago. I must confess that still, at this very moment, we don't know nearly enough about the situation," he explained. His speech was slow-paced and his words more or less vague – I wasn't much wiser than one minute ago.

"However, we have a reason to believe that you may be in danger," Carlisle continued, giving me a look that was more or less apologetic.

"What else is new," I muttered under my breath, not really too concerned about his words.

Carlisle was silent, waiting until I met his gaze again.

"I know it must frustrate you," he said, "to know that our existence may have endangered you life again. And I'm deeply sorry about it."

"You shouldn't," I answered. "Because whatever mess I've managed to get myself into again, it's pretty plausible that I've caused it myself."

Carlisle shook his head. "I doubt it," he said.

"Then tell me what this is about," I suggested. "Who or what supposedly endangers my life? The most dangerous moment in my everyday life is when I walk up and down the stairs."

Carlisle rose from the couch, beginning to pace. It baffled me - I had never seen him doing that during the short months I had occasionally spent time in his presence.

"There are many questions to be answered, I admit," he sighed, stopping his pacing and turning to look at me. "And I'm sorry that I don't have more information to give you."

I watched his distressed expression, feeling myself softening a bit. "So what makes you think I'm in danger? What's happened?"

Carlisle sat down again, a few inches closer to me than before. "Alice had a rather disturbing vision about you some time ago," he answered. "It was very sudden and unexpected because she has... _refrained_ from searching your future during the past years."

I quirked my brow, feeling a sudden sting somewhere inside me. I forced the feeling away, thinking that I had no reason to be upset about it. So what if Alice hadn't been observing me and my future? She had no reason to.

"After we left Forks, Edward wanted to be sure that we won't confuse your life any more than we had," Carlisle continued. "That's why he told Alice not to look into your future. I was rather surprised to see she obeyed," he added, almost to himself.

I waited silently for him to continue. But Carlisle stayed quiet, seeming to be lost in his thoughts.

"What was this sudden vision about, then?" I decided to ask eventually.

He looked at me, pondering. I had a feeling he was trying to choose his words carefully, but I couldn't figure any reason why. Why didn't he just cut to the chase and tell me what was going on?

"Something threatens your life," he simply answered. "Or someone. As I told you earlier, we still aren't too sure about the details."

I quirked my brow, glancing at the book I still had in my hands. _Returning Past_, the cover said. It was the copy of the same book I had put behind the display window of the store this afternoon, wondering about the strange sensation the name was giving me.

I pushed the book back on the table, my movement abrupt and hasty. Carlisle gave me a confused look, his golden eyes creeping to the book. Despite the dim lighting, I was sure that with his enhanced eyesight it was no trouble to read the cover of it.

"So," I began to say, drawing his attention back to me. "Why are you here?"

Carlisle frowned, opening his mouth. For a moment he didn't say anything.

"Because of what I just told you," he answered, not understanding what I was getting at.

"Yes, but I still can't understand what this has to do with you guys. You're not obligated to keep me alive."

I expected Carlisle to look away again. For the whole evening he had seemed to be unusually tense and even insecure, most of the time avoiding my eyes. That's why I thought there was no reason for him to change his behaviour now. I expected him to start struggling to form an answer and look away when he had none to give me.

But Carlisle didn't look away. He looked at me straight in the eye, not turning away when I met his gaze.

"What?" I asked when he was silent for a full minute.

Carlisle wetted his lips again, looking at the floor for a very short moment. Then he looked back at me, starting to speak very slowly. "Bella," he said, and I vaguely realized it was the first time he had spoken my name during the evening. "Do you honestly believe that we could have just ignored Alice's vision? And do nothing about it?"

I tried to interpret his tone. It wasn't angry, and I hadn't expected it to be. Carlisle never lost his composure. He sounded just very serious. Maybe even a little hurt.

"I don't know," I answered eventually, the silence of the room becoming a little too heavy.

Carlisle was very quiet for a moment or two more. Then he ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I'm very sorry to hear that you feel the need to question it. Our will to keep you safe."

"I'm not questioning it," I disagreed, idly wondering if I had done just that. "I'm just confused. You disappear all of a sudden and then you suddenly come back nearly ten years later, saying that I'm in danger..." I shook my head, idly realizing I had gotten up from the chair. "It's just so contradictory. Do you care or do you not care?"

Carlisle rose from the couch as well. "Of course we care," he answered quietly, calm as ever.

A humourless laugh left my lips. Without looking away from his golden eyes, I asked him the question that had burned my lips for the whole evening. For the whole eight years.

"If you care, then why did you leave?"

Carlisle swallowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but a quiet sound coming from the pocket of his coat stopped him. I watched him as he dug out a small cell phone, and frowned at the small screen that shone brightly in the dimly lit room.

"I'm sorry," he said. I didn't know if he meant the cell phone or was it an answer to the question I had asked. "I need to leave," he sighed, shoving the phone back into his pocket. "I'll come back and we'll talk about this. I promise." I watched him as he began to walk to the door with slow steps, turning around once more.

"We are keeping an eye on your surroundings," he informed, searching my face. "There's always someone close by if anything unusual happens. But nevertheless..." he paused, making sure he had my attention. "Nevertheless, keep your eyes open."

I only nodded at him, unable to say anything.

Carlisle walked to the door, opening it but not stepping outside. He glanced over his shoulder one more time, capturing me in the hold of his golden eyes. I saw nothing but worry in their depths. "Your friend who walked you home earlier," he began. "I have to agree with him. It's not wise of you to walk alone when it's so late."

I stood there as he stepped through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Then he was gone.


	3. Past And Its Presence

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

**_"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. _**

**_Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. _**

**_Just walk beside me and be my friend." _ **

\- Albert Camus -

* * *

** Past And Its Presence**

Sleep evaded me most of the night. The long hours were restless, and my limbs got tangled in the sheets as I kept tossing and turning. But I forced myself to stay in bed, childishly hoping that when I fell asleep and woke up the next morning, the events of the previous evening had been just a dream.

The hours passed slowly as I dozed off every now and then, only to wake up with a start. The memory of Carlisle's face filled my mind time after time, his concerned expression haunting me constantly. I thought about his words, his revelation, his apologies. How sorry he had been that he was forced to return and interfere in my life after all these years, and how regretful he was because I was possibly in danger because of them... All that made me wish that I had been more talkative when I'd had the chance. But in my state of surprise, I hadn't been able to ask him much. I'd barely been able to react to his arrival, and I hadn't done in the way I perhaps should have. There were so many things I still didn't know, such as what exactly had happened in Alice's vision, or where the rest of the Cullens were.

Carlisle had said there'd always be someone close by, observing me in case something happened. It made me wonder how closely they were keeping an eye on me – and who of them, exactly. It also made me wonder about the danger I supposedly was in. What made Carlisle automatically think that it had something to do with vampires? He hadn't said that directly, but that's the impression I had gotten from him.

I realized that I wasn't that scared. I was barely worried about the situation. Perhaps I should have been more intimidated since the Cullens had reacted to Alice's vision that way and even bothered to come all the way here to warn me. Their actions and motives made me confused again; why would they bother to come and protect me? Their actions spoke against everything I had believed in since the day they had left Forks all those years ago.

I pounded the pillow under my head, trying to make it more comfortable. Sighing, I began to think about all those months it had taken for me to get over them. And I really thought that I had. Getting rid of all the regret and sadness had been a long process. Now it felt like all the trouble I had went through had been for nothing.

I suppose reaching that stage of acceptance had eventually been successfull only because I had automatically thought that I'd never have to see any of them again; that I had known that it was all behind me. It was the whole point, wasn't it? First you had to deal with everything that bothered you, then you had to work it out with yourself, accept it and turn a new page without wallowing in everything you had just managed to process.

Nobody had told me that I'd have to do it all _twice_.

Giving up on sleeping, I pushed myself up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. For a moment I just sat still, trying to figure out how to go on from here. I had little choices – the situation was what it was, and there was nothing I could do to change it. It was frustrating.

I sighed deeply, glancing at the clock. It was past five in the morning. I began to feel like I had done my share of fretting for tonight – I was actually getting fed up with all the obsessing.

Eventually, I just decided to let the things to unfold the way they wanted. Idly wondering why I was suddenly so calm about this, I got up from the bed and padded my way to bathroom, deciding to take a shower.

As I was patting my wet hair with a towel, I sauntered to the living room, throwing a dubious glance at the couch Carlisle had been sitting on last night. Frowning, I began to consider the possibility of it all being just a dream. But the book with purple covers resting on the coffee table caught my eye – it was exactly where I had tossed it in the evening. Exactly where Carlisle's eyes had lingered for a short while as he had read the name of it.

_Returning Past,_ I read from the cover again. The name vexed me surprisingly much. My fingers itched to throw it in the garbage or light it on fire or something. But I knew it wouldn't help, and I also knew it wasn't the book that irritated me. It wasn't even the name of it.

Days passed by in a blur. First two, then three, then four and eventually a whole week. I saw no sign of Carlisle during that time, and to be honest, I didn't bother to look for him. I wasn't ready or even willing to face him again yet. I found myself looking around me every time I went outside, almost like I was afraid to see him standing at the corner of the street. But I never saw him – it was almost like he wanted to give me space and time to get used to the situation. He had probably sensed my conflicted emotions the night he had come to see me, and it surprised me that he actually seemed to know better than I did what I needed at the moment. It was as though he knew I wasn't ready to face him again before managing to solve my feelings.

Despite the warnings I had received from both Adrian and Carlisle, I kept walking to the bookstore and back to my apartment even when the light kept diminishing day by day. But as I had realized before, the situation and walking alone didn't scare me that much – I had to wonder why. It had been years since I had been in a life-threatening situation or even managed to injure myself enough to end up in the ER. I was either stubbornly defying fate or then I didn't remeber anymore what it felt like to be an inch away from dying or something. Therefore I simply didn't feel the need to take any precautions.

And sometimes I had a strange feeling as I walked home in the darkness of the evening. I could swear someone was watching me, but the feeling wasn't threatening in any way. I knew it was probably Carlisle or someone else of the Cullens watching over me. That's what he had said they'd do.

Several times during that week, I found myself stopping at the door of my apartment, turning around to gaze at the tree alley. I always hesitated, never venturing to say anything even though I pretty much knew there was somebody out there, ready to step away from the shadows if I happened to call. But I never did anything. Everytime the thought passed in my mind, I began to search for my keys, suddenly wanting to get inside and close the door behind me to leave everything on the other side.

A little over a week after I had first seen Carlisle, I couldn't take it anymore. After coming home from work and pacing around in my small apartment, I took a deep breath and grabbed my coat. Gearing myself with a warm scarf and a short but effective pep talk, I closed the zipper of my coat and stepped outside into the darkening evening.

The dark alley of trees was completely deserted. I locked the door behind me, taking a few steps forward. The cool air began to sneak its way into my clothing, but I ignored the feeling. Making my way further down the dark alley, I stopped to glance around me.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I prepared to clear my throat to say something. But I didn't know what to say. Even after several days of contemplating, I still didn't know the words I should speak.

I had kind of hoped that I'd know once I saw him.

But then, quiet and measured steps sounding from the far end of the alley had my attention. I turned to see who was nearing – as if I didn't know it already.

Carlisle appeared from the shadows slowly. The expression on his face was cautious, but also somewhat pleased as he nodded at me. I suppose he was pleasantly surprised to see that I was finally willing to talk. I knew it hadn't been right of me to hide and keep him waiting all this time, but I also knew that I couldn't have been able to face him before having the chance to solve my thoughts first.

I stood still as he came closer, and I watched him as he stopped a few paces away from me, not coming too close. The other side of his lips quirked. The smile was more or less scarce, but for some reason it made me relax.

"Evening, Bella," he greeted, nodding again.

"Hi," I responded, realizing that I was nearly whispering. I wetted my lips, glancing at the ground for a short second. "I was wondering if you could take a walk with me?"

Carlisle nodded. "Of course," he answered. He waited until I began to move, letting me choose the direction instead of doing it himself.

My steps began to take me to the end of the alley, and I made my way to the direction where one of my favourite parks was. I had always loved that park by the lake – everytime I had something on my mind, I went there to clear my thoughts. It also happened to be the same park where I had seen Carlisle that night and thought of him only as a figment of my imagination.

Carlisle walked silently beside me, not uttering a word. I knew he wanted me to take the first step and start the conversation. The gesture was small, but somehow very considerate. It made me feel like he truly cared about my comfort. This conversation was bound to happen, and I realized it was better that it hadn't happened until now. A week ago I had been too confused about the unexpected situation to be able to relate to the matter rationally. I didn't respond well to surprises – maybe I should have told that to Carlisle right away when he had appeared.

The space he had given me during the past few days had caused no huge realizations in me, but they had given me some new perspective. I knew I was now more ready to hear everything he had to say, and I was also ready to be more honest with him myself. Having the chance to mull over my thoughts and feelings had been good for me.

Clearing my throat quietly, I glanced at the dark lake on my right, watching the lights of the city across the waters. "Um," I began, wanting to kick myself for not having anything more articulate to say. "How are things?" I asked casually. "Anything new?"

Carlisle drew in a breath beside me, glancing at me. "Not much," he answered, giving me a small smile that was meant to reassure. Or maybe he wanted to lessen the tension between us – it was still there. There was no reason to pretend it wasn't. We both felt it.

I nodded at his answer, wetting my lips again. Pulling the sleeves over my hands, I tried to keep my fingers warm, momentarily regretting that I hadn't taken gloves with me. "Look," I began, vigorously trying to think of a way to begin. "I'm sorry if I seemed a little reserved last week," I apologized, looking at him to meet his gaze. "You just caught me off guard by showing up out of the blue. I didn't know to expect it."

His brow furrowed at my words. "I understand that," he answered. "And you have no reason to apologize, Bella. You handled the situation with an enviable grace."

I gave a short laugh, not really able to agree with him. An image of myself, shrieking and dropping the keys when he had appeared, rose in front of my eyes. Very graceful indeed.

"And I cannot blame you for any resentment you might feel," Carlisle continued quietly. "Considering what happened in Forks and how we dealt with the situation. The way we treated you was..." He shook his head, an expression of shame passing on his face.

"I'm not resentful," I disagreed softly. Carlisle's golden gaze pierced me as he looked at me. "Not anymore, at least. I once may have been," I admitted, knowing that there was no reason to deny it. "I mean... how could I not?"

Carlisle nodded quickly. "We offended you by our actions," he stated. "That goes without saying."

"I guess so. But it doesn't mean that I have to carry that with me for the rest of my life," I said softly, earning a long look from him. I kept walking with leisurely steps, trying to find the words to explain my thoughts to him.

I saw a wooden bench beside the walkway, and my steps took me to it. Sitting down on it, I gazed upon the restless waves ahead of me a few dozen yards away.

Carlisle sat down beside me. I turned to look at him, waiting until he turned his gaze away from the storming waves.

"It took a long while for me to get past what happened with your family," I explained. "But eventually I learned that the world doesn't stop turning. And... I just had to live on. It's wasted energy to wallow in something you never had the chance to influence."

Carlisle's golden eyes looked darker in the dim evening. I suddenly noticed that he was smiling, and there was a look in his eyes I couldn't quite recognize. "That is very wise of you," he spoke quietly.

I shook my head, giving a soft laugh. "It's not that wise. And not even that complex. It's pretty simple when you about it."

"Don't belittle yourself, Bella," Carlisle said. "To be honest, I cannot help but admire you. The way you've built a life for yourself here... Even after you were forced to go through something that could easily leave permanent scars..." He shook his head, a sudden expression of appreciation on his face.

"Oh, I have those too," I said with a sad smile. "It's difficult to go through life without scars. It's foolish to even try."

Carlisle smiled, glancing down at the ground as he leaned forward, linking his fingers. Then he looked at me again, the expression on his face becoming more serious.

"Even though I am relieved to hear that you're not resentful," he began, "I cannot even imagine carrying on from here without offering an apology. It is something we owe to you without a doubt – something _I_ owe to you, perhaps even more than the others."

I opened my mouth to say something, but Carlisle lowered his hand on mine, silencing me.

"Please hear what I have to say," he asked. "The way we dealt with the situation in Forks – though our purpose was good, it doesn't mean that it was the right solution. Leaving you behind was something we never should have tried to justify."

I listened to his flow of words, partly understanding what he was trying to say. But Edward's last words to me began to invade my mind, creating a contradiction I couldn't solve.

I frowned, idly realizing that Carlisle removed his cold hand from mine. "So you left because..." I paused, searching his eyes.

Carlisle began to frown as well. "To protect you," he stated. "Every second you spent in our presence was a risk to your life. It still is," he added. "In the end, it was Edward's demand that made us leave. I disagreed with him – most of us did. But we allowed ourselves to be convinced. It was only because there was some truth in his claims. Your safety was something we couldn't guarantee. There was no reason for us to deny it, because we all knew you were never completely safe when you spent time with us."

I took a deep breath, trying to absorb his words. Carlisle had managed to tilt my world again – I guess it was something I should get used to.

"_You're not good for me, Bella."_

I played Edward's last words in my mind; I hadn't forgotten about them even though I had many times wanted to. There had been a time when the words had caused a lot of grief to me. Because I had believed everything he had told me. I had believed that I wasn't good enough for him. Because if he had said that, it had to be true. And after allowing myself to believe something like that, it had been difficult to convince myself otherwise.

In a way - in many ways - his words were already behind me. They had been for a long time. You tended to do that after a certain amount of time had passed. You moved on, leaving behind people, memories, feelings. Things that had affected you in both good and bad ways. And Edward's words – even though they had lingered in my memories, I had left them behind. Because I didn't believe in his words anymore, even though there had been a moment when I once had.

There was a part of me that was very disappointed in the girl I had once been. I couldn't believe I had allowed a few simple words to strip me of my self-worth and steal away the respect I had for myself. I was disappointed in that girl, but also oddly grateful. Grateful of Edward's words he had spoken in such careless fashion, probably not knowing what kind of an effect they would first have on me. Because even though I had momentarily lost my meager self-confidence after hearing his words, I had also managed to build it back in time. Without the emotions his words had triggered, I wouldn't be who I was now.

It was odd to feel gratitude towards a person who had once caused me so much sorrow and heartache.

Carlisle's heavy gaze pulled me from my ponderings. He was frowning at me, a confused expression on his face.

"Edward did tell you the truth, did he not?" he asked. "He did explain to you the reason for our departure?"

I searched for words, wondering if my answer upset him. "He said that I didn't belong to your world," I answered evasively. "It's something I can now agree with. Maybe not back then, but..."

"What else did he say?" Carlisle asked, straightening his form to be on an eye-level with me, as though to listen more closely.

"What do you think he said?" I asked back, starting to have a feeling that he had an entirely different conception about the day they had left Forks.

Carlisle wetted his lips, still frowning. "He told me he was going to explain to you why we shouldn't be a part of your life. I still couldn't agree with him, despite what he was going to say to you. Very few of us did," he added. "You were like a family member to us."

I swallowed, looking away from his golden, kind eyes. A quiet, rueful laugh left my lips, and I shook my head, wondering why I hadn't realized this before.

"Now I understand," I said quietly, glancing down at my hands. "I can't believe how gullible I was."

Carlisle's gaze was heavier than the silence between us. He was frowning again, suddenly looking cautious. "What do you mean?" he asked eventually, speaking slowly. His eyes gave him away; he had already begun to suspect what I was talking about. He knew Edward, after all. After decades of spending time with each other, I was sure he had some clue about how his mind worked.

But I could see he didn't quite want to believe. I glanced at him, considering if I should let it pass and simply lie to him. It was no use to dig up old wounds.

Carlisle didn't let it go that easily. He held my gaze relentlessly, draping his arm on the back of the bench and shifting his position, turning to face me properly. "You seem to be surprised after what I've told you," he said, stating the obvious. "And it causes me to wonder what kind of things Edward said to you to cause that bewilderment."

I sighed, raising my hand to rub my temples. Carlisle waited silently, apparently having decided to get the truth out of me. Searching for words, I gave him a quick glance, deciding that I might as well tell him. Those things didn't bother me that much anymore, and I guess being honest was eventually better than clamming up. At least everything would be out in the open.

"He told me the only thing I was afraid to hear," I answered with a sigh. "The only thing that he knew would have a thorough effect. And I believed him when he said it – I suppose he knew I would." I turned to look at Carlisle, noticing the expression of foreboding on his face. "He said I wasn't good for him. He knew I would believe it without a blink, and that way he made it impossible for me to make him change his mind about leaving." I shook my head, once again thinking about the girl I had once been. And I suddenly realized that she had existed within me all this time, even when I had thought I had grown out of her insecurity. But I guess a small part of her had lingered. Because otherwise I would have figured out the motive behind Edward's words. I _should _have been able to figure it out.

Carlisle was silent for a very long time. I turned to look at him, wondering if he regretted that he had asked me. I didn't regret it - not really. Because by answering his question, I had finally managed to get rid of that small part of insecurity that had nagged me all these years. The young girl of eighteen, the one who had always been so self-deprecating and unsure about herself, finally became fully something she had always meant to be; a part of my past.

The feeling of freedom the realization caused made me feel nearly thrilled. I glanced at Carlisle through my quiet euphoria, noticing that my confession had caused the exact opposite reaction in him.

"Lord," I heard him whispering as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "I never knew he said such a thing to you. If I had known he intended to..."

"It doesn't really matter," I said softly, not wanting him to feel so distressed about it. "And it wasn't your fault, in any case. It was Edward's own decision to handle the situation the way he did. There's no way to change it, and I don't even want to. Not anymore."

Carlisle turned to look at me, his expression more or less confused. I could understand why it confused him to see me relating to the matter so calmly.

"I don't have any regrets," I explained. "Even though there once may have been a time when all I wanted to do was to erase your momentary presence from my life, to forget everything I ever knew about you... it doesn't mean that I still think that way."

Carlisle listened quietly, the lighting of the walkway a few yards away reflecting from his golden eyes.

"And..." I wetted my lips, glancing at the dark lake in front of us, admiring the beauty of it. Even in darkess, it was so very beautiful. "And there's even a part of me that wants to be grateful. Edward may have done wrong by taking the situation in his own hands like that and taking away the choice that should have been mine to make. But I can't help but wonder if he knew better than I did."

Carlisle frowned, his mouth opening slightly. "What do you mean?" His voice was quiet, tender.

"I mean that maybe he knew what I'd miss," I explained. "Maybe he knew what I was about to give up when I decided that I wanted to spend an eternity with him. I mean... All these things I've experienced during these past few years... I wouldn't give them away. I'd change nothing. And it's strange because after I met Edward, I was so willing to let those things slip past me without even considering otherwise. It was foolish of me," I gave a short laugh, sudden nostalgia filling me when I thought about my unyielding determination. It made me realize that I really hadn't thought it through. Becoming a vampire had been something I had wanted fervently, but I hadn't thought about the consequences of my decision entirely. Maybe I had been afraid to do that. Maybe I had thought that if I considered it too carefully, I might change my mind about it.

"I don't think you were foolish," Carlisle mused quietly. "You simply had your mind set on something you truly appreciated and thought as important. There's no fault in that. And you did much more than just set your mind on it; you put your heart into it. You were so unwavering about your opinions and your decision to join us. Not many would agree to become a creature like us without a moment of hesitation. And do it all out of love."

I smiled at his words. "That's why it seemed so worth it," I murmured, glancing at the dark sky and wondering if it began to rain. "Usually love is the only reason you need to have all the determination you require. And it's not that I would have regretted becoming one of you," I stated, turning to look at Carlisle again. "If things were different... If I had managed to get Edward convinced about everything and not humbly accepted the things he told me... If I had possessed the self-esteem the situation had demanded, maybe everything would be very different now."

Carlisle watched me with a strange look in his eyes. It was as though he was admiring my words. The concept was rather silly – it'd be strange to be able to leave an impression on someone who had lived over ten times longer than I had been even alive.

"But you don't mourn for that lost possibility," Carlisle stated quietly. "Not anymore. Instead you've accepted losing it. You've taken life as it comes."

I shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. "I guess. But there's nothing special about it. Anyone would have been able to do the same."

Carlisle shook his head. "I doubt it," he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

A comfortable silence fell between us. I was suddenly very glad I had ventured to step outside of my apartment this evening. The tension that had hovered over the situation all these past days seemed to lessen, and I glanced around me in the dark park, noting that we were the only ones here. Usually you saw a person or two jogging or walking a dog, but now the park was completely deserted. It made me wonder what the time was.

Carlisle was looking around as well, but I was sure he was observing his surroundings for another reason. It caused me to remember the initial reason for his presence. Dwelling on old matters had nearly caused me forget why he had returned in the first place.

"Do you hear anything?" I asked with a wry smile. "Vampires or other dangerous creatures sneaking their way here to end my feeble human life?"

Carlisle glanced at me with a quirk of his brow. He narrowed his eyes, a confused smile curving his lips. "You don't sound too concerned about the situation," he stated softly. It was almost a question.

"Not really," I stated. "I guess I should take it more seriously, but I suppose I'm missing some valuable self-preservation instinct or something."

Carlisle didn't seem to know if he should be amused or concerned. "I suppose you haven't noticed anything uncommon?" he asked. "Anything at all?"

I shook my head. "No. Have you?"

He frowned. "I haven't. It brings me relief, but also troubles me. Something feels amiss."

"Could you tell me what exactly happened in Alice's vision?" I asked. "And why do you guys instantly think it's got something to do with your kind?"

Carlisle avoided my eyes, considering my question. "There's no reason for you to worry," he assured, glancing at me quickly. "We are keeping an eye on the situation. You can count on that."

"And I am counting on it," I stated. "This has nothing to do with trusting you, because I know you have everything under control. I was just curious."

Carlisle leaned against the back of the bench, his gaze wandering around the empty park. "Alice's vision was mostly obscure. She didn't quite manage to grasp it."

"What happened in it?" I asked. Carlisle glanced at me, and I met his gaze boldly. "You don't have to protect me," I insisted. "Whatever it is, I can handle it."

He let out a deep breath. He searched the dark waves with his gaze, shadows conquering the golden luster of his eyes. "As I said, the vision was very vague. Alice couldn't decipher it properly because it fleeted so quickly. However, she saw a brief flash of you apparently after being attacked by someone. We don't know who it was and what happened, but it was obvious that you were very troubled." He glanced at me again, probably to see if I looked too traumatized for him to continue.

"Did I say anything?" I asked.

Carlisle licked his lips, glancing at the dark lake again. "You called out for help," he answered softly.

"Oh." I quirked my brow, leaning against the back of the bench. I felt Carlisle watching me, trying to read my expression.

"Are you not afraid?" he asked, his tone something between disbelief and confusion.

I shrugged, trying to find an answer. "I guess I'm worried," I answered. "But not too afraid to do something as dramatic as to lock myself inside my apartment for the rest of my life." I glanced at him, searching his eyes. "You didn't tell me why you think this has something to do with vampires."

Carlisle leaned his elbows to his knees, rubbing his chin in a very human-like manner. "We cannot be certain about it," he admitted. "But it didn't matter to us when Alice had the vision. We were very distraught about it, and there was no question whether or not we should prevent the vision from coming true."

His words touched me. I didn't even try to deny it. "I appreciate it," I said quietly.

Carlisle turned to me with a small smile. "Last week before I left your house," he began, "when you questioned our intentions and our wish to protect you... I can understand it now when I know your view about everything that passed between you and Edward in Forks," he stated, sounding almost apologizing. "But I only want to make sure you know. Despite these years that have gone by... despite the impression we gave to you about ourselves, I hope that you know your safety is of great importance to us."

I nodded at his words, suddenly unable to say anything. It was sweet of him to say those things to me after all the uncertainty I had gone through. And I knew he meant what he said – the look in his eyes was nothing but honest and kind. At the same time I found myself wondering what would happen after this situation was over. If Alice's vision didn't come true and I managed to stay away from the trouble they had come to warn me about, what would happen then? Would the Cullens disappear and go back wherever they had come from? And would I go on with my life like nothing had happened?

I shook my head at the thought, thinking that this was something I shouldn't worry about beforehand. Hopefully the situation would end in a way that was best for all concerned.

I wondered if I saw Edward during their presence here. Carlisle had been very vague about who had come with him to Buffalo, only stating that not everyone of them were here. He had barely mentioned Edward – only a couple of times – and it made me wonder if he had agreed to come at all. I wondered if he still had feelings for me. It was something I had to be prepared for after the things I had heard from Carlisle.

What if he was still in love with me? The thought was nearly impossible for me to comprehend. His words had corroded their way into my consciousness so efficiently that it'd take a while for everything Carlisle had told me to sink in.

It was an excellent excuse to put the matter out of my mind, to believe I needed more time to mull over everything. But I found myself thinking on about it, realizing that it didn't really make a difference - not to me. That girl I had once been, the one who had fallen in love with the beautiful boy who was eternally frozen in time... I felt so far from her.

"What's on your mind?" Carlisle asked quietly, causing me to remember his presence.

He was studying me with his gaze, curiosity in his golden eyes.

"Nothing really," I lied smoothly, wondering if I should ask him about Edward and the state of mind he was in – or the state of emotions he was in. But I chickened out, deciding that the matter would come up later if it was meant to.

I cleared my throat, starting to go through the rest of the questions that had been on mind mind for the past days. "If it is a vampire attacking me in Alice's vision," I wondered, "who could it be? How many enemies did I manage to make when I hung out with you?"

Carlisle shook his head, pondering. "We've been thinking about it," he revealed, casting a quick glance at me. "But so far we haven't been able to come up with anything concrete. Although, there cannot be many possibilities."

"What do _you_ think?"

He looked cautious again, as though he didn't quite wish to talk to me about this. I knew he probably worried that I'd get scared or something. "Do you remember the time when James tried to hunt you?" he asked.

"Vividly," I chuckled, earning a confused glance from him because of my relaxed stance towards the subject.

"Can you remember the woman in his company?" he continued. "The one who was with him when they encountered us on the baseball field?"

I frowned, trying to summon the distant memories that had seemed to slip away after all this time. "Uh... She had red hair. That's all I remember."

Carlisle nodded. "Victoria," he stated, causing me to nod.

"Right, her," I murmured, looking at him and waiting for him to continue. "Do you think she could be after me?"

Carlisle shrugged his shoulders, the expression on his face somewhat uncertain. "It is possible," he mused. "Vampires are very vengeful by their nature, and James being Victoria's mate could cause her to seek revenge."

For some reason the word mate sounded curious in my ears. I had to wonder how those things worked between vampires. If a vampire fell in love with another, was it for the rest of their existence? Or could the romantic feelings fade, just like with humans?

But from the way the word sounded as Carlisle spoke it had me believe that it wasn't about something temporary. There was a strange feel to the word, and I found myself wondering where that feeling came from.

I repeated Carlisle's sentence in my mind, realizing I hadn't said anything to him. "You don't seem to be ready to believe it," I stated. "That Victoria could have something to do with this."

"It's the strange timing that troubles me," Carlisle explained, leaning against the back of the bench and crossing his arms. "It seems uncovential of her to act now. Why would she wait several years before making her move?" He shook his head, frowning. "I'm not ready to exclude her, but I'm also more or less skeptical about it."

I shivered. Sitting still for so long caused my muscles to stiffen, but I ignored the cold. "Do you have another theory, then?" I asked.

Carlisle noticed my shivering. "Perhaps it's something we should leave for another time. It's getting late – I've been keeping you way too long," he apologized.

"It's fine," I insisted, surprised how unwilling I was to end our conversation. But another shudder rippled through me, and Carlisle got up, ignoring my complaints.

He offered me his hand, and I hesitated for a moment before taking it and letting him help me up.

We began to walk with a leisurely pace back towards my apartment. I found myself slowing my steps, wanting to find out more about everything that was going on. There were so many other things I wanted to ask that I doubted I even remembered them all.

But it was Carlisle who decided to continue the earlier conversation. I hadn't expected him to. He gave me a long, searching look before starting to speak. It confused me.

"I suppose it is a possibility that our world has nothing to do with the vision Alice had of you," he mused.

"I told you," I remarked. "I'm very capable of getting myself into trouble without any bloodthirsty vampires at my tail."

Carlisle's small laugh was dry and not at all amused. He took a deep breath, giving me another long look. "I was wondering if you had something in mind," he began. "Can you tell me if there's anyone who might have a reason to harm you?"

I mulled over his question, coming up with nothing. "Not really," I answered. "I usually try not to make enemies when I interract with people.".

Carlisle smiled wryly. But then his eyes were observing me again, capturing me in their hold. "What about the man who walked you home last week?" he asked carefully.

"Adrian?" I asked, my tone boring different tones of disbelief. "No way," I gave a laugh, shaking my head. "He's a good friend of mine. You have absolutely no reason to doubt him - I know him better than I know myself."

A small frown furrowed his brow. "If you are certain," he murmured softly, not sounding too confident.

"I am." Even the thought of Adrian wanting to harm me made me want to laugh. He hadn't been even able to get rid of that tiny mouse I had once had in my apartment during the short period of time we had lived together. Of course we'd had our fights – huge and ear-splitting, if I may add – but we were already beyond those difficulties. And even though we still disagreed with each other constantly, it didn't mean those arguments would escalate to the point where we felt the need to hurt each other physically. Even the notion was strange.

Carlisle gazed around the quiet streets, a pondering expression on his face. "I suppose we have to reconsider the matter, then," he murmured.

"When you say we," I decided to ask, not wanting to keep guessing who of the Cullens were watching over me, "who exactly are you talking about? Last week you said that not all of your family are here with you."

Carlisle nodded. "That is correct," he answered. A strange expression passed on his face, but it was difficult to read it. "Mostly I've been here by myself observing the situation, but Alice and Jasper stopped by a couple of days ago," he explained. "They aren't in Buffalo at the moment – we have a house a two-hour of drive away from here. They are currently spending their time there."

It sounded odd that only Alice and Jasper had accompanied him here. I had to wonder where the rest of them were – and would they arrive soon. I thought about Rosalie – the scary, beautiful Rosalie – and Emmett, wondering about their current location.

Not to mention Esme. I tried to summon her breathtakingly beautiful face from my memories, only to realize that it wasn't her looks that had lingered in my mind. It was her good, kind nature that I remembered without an effort.

I cleared my throat, knowing that I'd stay up all night if I didn't find out at least something. "Does Edward know what's going on?" I asked, trying to sound causal and succeeding pretty well. Thinking about him made me nervous for some reason, and the thought of meeting him again at some point was even more unnerving and strange.

"He's aware of the situation," Carlisle answered quietly. "He wasn't with us during the time when Alice had that vision of you, and that's why he found out about our intentions to come here only later."

"He must have been pleased," I stated dryly.

Carlisle gave a small laugh. "I'm sure it unsettled him to know that against his wishes, we were about to interfere in you life. But he understands our reason. He doesn't want Alice's vision to come true, either."

We turned to the dark alley that led to my apartment. It must have gotten really late because I was suddenly exhausted. So many things had happened during the evening and I could swear I hadn't talked this much with anyone in ages.

The door of my apartment looked inviting as I began to dig out my keys, but I realized that I didn't want to go inside yet. There were so many things I still didn't know.

Carlisle sensed my inner battle. He gave me a small, reassuring smile. "It's getting late. I'm sure we can continue this conversation some other time," he said. "If that is what you wish, of course."

"Sure," I answered, attempting to answer his smile. I glanced at the trees surrounding the alley, wondering where he had been hiding all this time. I hadn't caught a glimpse of him during these past days as he had watched over me. It made me wonder if I should ask him to come inside – it couldn't be too comfortable to spend the nights outside when the weather was getting so chilly, despite the fact that he couldn't feel the cold like humans did.

But before I could pluck up the courage to say anything, Carlisle began to back away. He nodded at me once, bidding me goodnight with a small smile.

My lips opened to answer him, to say goodnight as well, or maybe to suggest that he could spend the night indoors instead of the treetop or wherever he had used to spent his time so far. But as my lips began to form the words, I noticed that I was standing all alone in the dark alley.

A quiet sigh left my mouth as I turned, walking the rest of the way to my apartment. After opening the door but before going inside, I turned to glance at the shadows occupying the dark pavement in front of the small house.

And I could feel a pair of golden eyes on me, watching my every move as I went inside and locked the door behind me.

* * *

**AN: **I thought I'd never get this edited, but finally I did. I was supposed post this a couple of days earlier, but I've been so busy I barely have the time to sit down for five minutes. I'm actually looking forward to a rainy day or two to have a proper excuse to hide away with my computer and sit down to write for a couple of hours.

_"You're not good for me, Bella." _Is a direct quote from Stephenie Meyer's book _New Moon_.

Do you have any ideas about the vision Alice had of Bella? Is she being attacked by someone, and if so, who's the bad guy? ;)

I hope you enjoy my story so far!


	4. Fleeting Moments

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way,**_

_**that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.**_

_**Life is about not knowing, having to change, **_

_**taking the moment and making the best of it,**_

_**without knowing what's going to happen next.**_

_**Delicious Ambiguity.**_

\- Gilda Radner -

* * *

** Fleeting Moments  
**

That night I slept better than in ages. The talk with Carlisle hadn't just cleared the air but it had also cleared my thoughts, making me realize that maybe his sudden return wouldn't turn my world upside down.

Despite the shadow of threat hanging over my head, I tried to carry on with my days as usually, waking up early in the morning and swilling down way too much coffee before walking to the bookstore to get everything ready for another day. The momentary recession that had seemed to hit the store a few weeks ago disappeared little by little, and I was glad to notice that my days passed unnoticeably quickly with all the customers keeping me busy.

But with the customers also came the rush. While the days grew shorter, my working hours grew longer. Every night I was more than tired after spending the entire day constantly on my feet, and when I finally closed the store and walked through the park to my apartment, I just wanted to go to bed and fall asleep.

I saw Carlisle every now and then, but only briefly, mostly in the evenings when I got back home. We didn't talk much, only exchanged a few quick words - if even that. I was simply too tired for deeper conversations. But it was rather easy to notice that I wasn't the one who was being deliberately distant. Carlisle seemed withdrawn and remote compared to the night when we had talked in the park. I nearly thought I only imagined it, because it was so uncommon of him to be that way. But still, most of the times when I managed to catch a quick glimpse of him when I got home from work, he only nodded at me from a certain distance, that same seriousness in him than on that night when he had come to see me for the first time. And after that he usually disappeared, the place where he had stood only a second ago echoing his absence.

I figured he just wanted to give me time to get used to everything, just like during the first days after he had returned. I wanted to believe my own reassurances, but truthfully, I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong.

My peaceful dreams changed into restless nightmares, and instead of having a good night of sleep, I spent my nightly hours trying to run away from dark figures with red eyes.

Four or five days after our walk in the park, I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night. At first I didn't know why, but then I heard the sound of raindrops bombarding the window of my bedroom. It sounded more like a flood than an average rainfall. An image of Carlisle huddling somewhere under a tree appeared to me.

"That's it," I muttered and pushed myself up, deciding that the sulking had to end now.

The floor was cool under my feet as I stood up and began to search for a pair of socks. After finding them and pulling them on, I draped a black robe around me and padded my way through the quiet house.

The front door opened with a screech as I peeked outside. It was difficult to see because it was so dark. Only the lights of the street a few dozen yards away illuminated the dreary scenery. I began to clear my throat, wondering if I should just call out for him. I knew he'd hear despite the noise the rain was making.

The loud sound of raindrops rattling against the roof was the only thing I heard as I slipped my feet into a pair of sneakers, taking a step outside. I had to go back and fumble for the light switch, and after spending a moment or two to curse the energy saving lamp that lighted up so slowly, I took a step into the rain.

The small front yard bathed in the dim light, and I looked around me, a shiver rippling through my frame. It was freezing.

I didn't have to call out Carlisle's name. Nearly as soon as I had taken the first step on the wet pavement, he appeared from the shadows, the raindrops glistening on his pale skin and golden hair.

"Bella?" he said, sounding oddly alarmed. "Is something wrong? Why are you awake at this hour?"

Water trickled down his face and neck as he neared me. He stopped a few paces away from me, his brow slightly creased from worry. I noticed that his usually golden eyes were a shade or two darker. It made me wonder if he needed to hunt soon. Or maybe his eyes were always darker during the night, reacting to the lack of light. I'd have to ask him about that some day.

"Yes. Something is wrong," I stated, giving him a gaze that I hoped to be fierce. "And it's you. Standing out here in the rain. I can't stand it."

Carlisle frowned, shaking his head. "The rain doesn't bother me," he insisted.

"But it's cold."

"The cold doesn't bother me, either. My body temperature is so low."

My teeth began to chatter, causing Carlisle to take a step forward. He began to guide me back inside. I suppose he was afraid I'd get pneumonia or something.

I knew he was probably honest about the body temperature-thing, but it couldn't mean that it was too comfortable for him to stand all night long in the rain. He was just too stubborn to admit it.

"Wouldn't you come inside?" I asked as he led me to the door. "You'd be much more comfortable there. If you have to watch over me without a break, there's no reason why you couldn't do it from indoors."

Carlisle shook his head. "Don't worry about me, Bella," he answered and actually smiled. It was the first smile I had witnessed from him during the past five days.

I sighed, stepping over the doorstep into the warm air. "If you don't come inside for yourself, could you even consider doing it for me? I can't sleep when I know you're out here sulking and... moping around."

Carlisle quirked his brow. "I am not sulking," he disagreed.

"Right," I murmured, not really believing him. I wrapped the robe more tightly around me, casting a determined look at the man in front of me. "Look, either you come inside or we both spend the night in the rain. Is that what you want?"

Carlisle ran a hand through his wet hair. He sighed, giving me a look that was somewhat amused. I knew he was about to give up, and so I turned around and walked to the living room, switching on the lights as I went. After a second or two, I heard him stepping through the door and closing it behind him. He looked around him in the apartment as though he had stepped inside for the first time.

"You're very kind to ask me in, Bella," Carlisle said, "but it truly isn't necessary."

I ignored his words, making my way to the bedroom to grab a towel for him and for myself. My hair was almost completely wet even though I had been outside only for a couple of seconds.

"Sit down," I suggested as I got back, casually throwing the towel across the air toward him. Carlisle grabbed it effortlessly, glancing down at his wet clothing. He was completely drenched.

"I'd better not," he answered, probably worried that he'd ruin my furniture.

"Oh for crying out loud, Carlisle," I huffed. "It's just a couch."

I didn't know what made me so snappy. I guess it was because the past few days had been so busy and stressful, and that combined to the lack of sleep was just enough. I thought about the dark shadows with red eyes that kept haunting me in my dreams, and I realized that maybe I was more bothered by Alice's vision than I liked to admit.

Carlisle sat down wordlessly, patting the marble skin of his face with the towel. He casted a curious look at me, almost like waiting for more reproaches.

I sat down in the armchair close to him, sighing.

"I apologize if I've kept you up," Carlisle murmured softly. "It was not my intention."

"I know," I answered. "And it's not your fault." I peeked at him under my eyelashes, watching the dark circles under his eyes. "Is there any news?" I asked, deciding that the small talk was the best way to get rid of the tension that seemed to be present for some reason or another. The distance Carlisle had been keeping for the past days confused me.

"Not much," Carlisle answered, shaking his head. A sudden frown appeared to his face as he glanced at the floor for a short moment. "Alice and Jasper stopped by yesterday," he revealed.

I thought about the petite woman with raven black hair. A sudden feeling of longing filled me as I thought of her. Even though the time I had known her had been so short, Alice had been one of my closest friends. I had never had a sister, but during those short months in Forks, Alice had really felt like one.

Then I thought of Jasper. My last encounter with him had been less positive, but I realized I bore no ill feelings towards him. That incident on the night of my birthday had been unfortunate, and nothing more than that. Just unfortunate – it had been simply bad luck that I had cut my finger and caused that reaction in him, reaction that was only natural for their kind.

I felt a sting of guilt, realizing I had rarely considered how the incident might have affected him. Had he blamed himself for eveything that had happened? I didn't know.

"How are they?" I asked, tearing myself away from the memories.

Carlisle began to fiddle with the towel in his hand. "They are well," he answered, giving me a swift smile. But then he frowned again, a pondering expression coming to his face.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

Carlisle raised his brow, almost as though my words had surprised him. I suppose he was so deep in thought that he hadn't payed attention to his facial expressions.

"Everything is well, considering," he reassured. He wetted his lips, searching for words. "I only hoped that when Alice stopped by yesterday, she could have been able to tell me if something in her vision had changed," he explained. "But she wasn't able to do that."

"What do you mean?" I asked, beginning to dry my hair with the towel. "What did you expect to change? And why?"

He didn't meet my eyes at first. He stared at the wooden surface of the coffee table for a while before raising his gaze to meet my eyes. "We had hoped that the vision Alice had of you would change once we got here," he explained. "I hoped that by coming here to watch over you, we could get an instant confirmation about your safety. Alice has been observing your future ever since she had that vision of you, but so far it has stayed exactly the same."

"You mean that she still sees me after someone's attacked me?"

Carlisle tilted his head, looking like he wanted to shake his head instead of nodding. "Yes," he said. "I had hoped that perhaps only our presence here would have an effect on the future, causing the vision to disappear or change into something else."

"But it hasn't."

Carlisle shook his head. "No."

I pondered about it, shrugging. "There's no way to know which events will lead to the moment that takes place in the vision," I mused. "I suppose that makes it quite difficult for anyone to prevent it from happening." I frowned, beginning to fold the towel in my hands. "Can she tell when it's going to take place? Or where?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No. It troubles her – usually she can easily determine the time, but not now. She explained to me that something makes the vision clouded, almost like the moment is still very far away. Apparently there are too many variables on the way, preventing her from seeing clearly."

"Maybe it doesn't only seem that it's still far away in the future," I suggested. "Maybe it really is."

Carlisle declined his head. "It is a possibility," he admitted. On the outside he seemed calm as usual, but I had to wonder how frustrated he was on the inside.

"Which means that you're possibly going to have to be here for a very long time," I stated, watching his reaction. It vexed me that they had to go through all this trouble because of me. Of course they had all the time in the world – that was one of the pros in being a vampire, I guess – but what also troubled me was that by helping me, they also risked their own lives. It still wasn't certain whether or not there was a hostile vampire involved, but if there was...

Carlisle studied me with his golden brown eyes. There was nothing but sincere kindness in them. "Time doesn't matter to us," he murmured. "We don't care how long it takes, but we're going to ensure your safety. I promise you that."

_And what happens after I'm safe?_

Shaking the silent thought away, I gave Carlisle a small smile. "I appreciate it," I answered quietly. "But I can't help but worry. Not for my own safety, but for yours. What if there is a vampire involved? We've already gone through all that with James all those years ago. And it was fortunate that none of you got hurt at my expense."

Carlisle shook his head. "You have no reason to worry about us. And I have to remind you that even with James, in the end it was only you who got injured. You ended up with broken ribs and a broken leg, not to meantion the venomous bite. That is why I guarantee you that none of that will happen this time. We will make sure it won't."

His words were so heartfelt that I had no choice but to believe him. And I knew I would have known all that even if he hadn't said anything. My fingers sought the crescent-shaped mark on my inner wrist where the skin was always a bit cooler. A reminder of my past, something that had always linked me to the Cullens, to the life I once could have chosen. Or _would_ have chosen, if that choice hadn't been taken away from me. If that choice had been only mine to make.

"I know all that," I murmured as an answer, wanting Carlisle to know that I trusted them. "But I hate that you have to put your lives at risk for me. It makes me kind of hope that Alice's vision is about me after getting hit by a bus or something." The joke was bad – I knew it before the words left my lips.

I raised my gaze to see Carlisle watching me with a cool expression on his face.

"Okay," I admitted. "Not funny."

Carlisle leaned his elbows to his knees, holding my gaze. "No, Bella," he agreed. "Not at all amusing."

I stayed silent for a while, letting the tension pass. I had to wonder what time it was – it didn't feel like night at all. Even though I should have been sleeping, I noticed I was completely alert.

"So," I said, clearing my throat and deciding to change the subject. "If Jasper and Alice are here – well, not in Buffalo but nearby – does it mean that the rest of your family will arrive as well?"

Carlisle crossed his fingers, staying silent for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure about their location, to be honest," he confessed, surprising me rather efficiently. I quirked my brow at him, wondering how he couldn't know something like that. The Cullens had always been so … _united, _ I guess, and it baffled me to hear that they had gone on their own ways for some reason or another.

Carlisle began to explain, apparently not wanting me to end up with wrong conclusions.

"Emmett and Rosalie are assisting Edward with something," he said. He suddenly seemed to battle with himself whether or not to continue. "They are attempting to find out what Victoria has been up to during these past years. Where her current location is and so on." His tone was a little too casual as he spoke, and it didn't cause the desired reaction in me.

"They are after her?" I asked, my voice slightly high-pitched. "But..."

"Not after her, per se," Carlisle reassured, gesturing with his hand in a calming manner. "It's not what you think. They are only gathering information and nothing else. They are trying to find out about her recent activities in order to know whether or not she has something to do with Alice's vision."

I let out a breath, but otherwise found it impossible to relax. "What if they find her and discover that she's involved with this? What if they'll try to – "

Carlisle shook his head, giving me a reassuring smile. "They'll inform the rest of us before taking any measures," he assured. "They won't act ill-advisedly." He gazed around the room, looking so calm that I had no choice but to have trust in his words.

"Have you heard from them?" I still had to ask.

Carlisle nodded. "They are in contact with Jasper and Alice from time to time. By now it's starting to seem unlikely they'll manage to find Victoria after all these years. Alice hasn't been able to see much of her future. To be honest, I'm beginning to wonder if she's even on this continent any longer."

I didn't know if he only said it to set my mind at ease. His expression revealed nothing – he was either a very good actor or then he was being honest.

I took a deep breath, trying not to get all flustered about everything. The Cullens seemed to have everything under control, and I honestly couldn't understand why I kept worrying about them constantly. Did it mean I didn't have trust in them? I frowned, gazing at Carlisle who had reached out for the pile of books sitting on my coffee table. He began to study them, curiosity in his golden amber eyes.

I knew the answer to my own question. It wasn't about trusting them, because I did. I just couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to them because of me. Before that incident on the night of my birthday, the Cullens had always been so wonderful to me. Rosalie might have been the only one who'd had difficulties to accept me, but otherwise I had gotten along with them very well. Better than I had gotten along with anyone else, including humans. It was ironic.

Especially Esme had always been so supportive. In her presence it had been so easy to forget that I was spending my time with a group of deathly predators. There had always been something very human about Esme, about the way she interacted with everyone. I suppose it was her human past that caused that certain softness and delicacy in her nature...

Wait_._

I frowned, casting a confused glance at Carlisle. Why hadn't he said anything about Esme's whereabouts? Didn't it bother him to be separated from his wife? Or had he asked her to stay wherever the Cullens had lived before Alice'd had her vision, wanting to keep her safe?

Carlisle sensed my stare, raising his gaze from the backcover of the book he was studying. I should have known the books would catch his interest sooner or later. If my memory served, passion for reading was something we both shared.

"It's seems like an interesting novel," he noted, lowering the book back on the table. "Have you read it?"

I shook my head distractedly, frowning again. "Um, not yet. Can I ask you something?"

He quirked his brow, linking his fingers again. "Certainly."

"Where is Esme?" I asked, deciding to be straightforward. "She didn't go with Rosalie and Emmett, did she?" Worry filled me at the thought.

A guarded expression came over Carlisle's face. "No," he answered. "Esme is elsewhere."

Silence fell in the room. I tried to read Carlisle's expression as he gazed at the coffee table in front of him. The look in his eyes was mostly pensive, but also a little wistful. I had to wonder what caused it, especially while speaking about Esme.

I cleared my throat quietly. "Is everything all right?" I decided to ask, even though I didn't wish to pry. But something in his expression compelled me to ask. The look in his eyes confused me.

Carlisle seemed to wake up from his ponderings. "Of course," he answered, giving me a quick smile.

Lifting my feet from the floor, I bent my legs underneath me. I leaned my elbow to the arm of the chair, resting my chin on my palm. "Does it bother her to be separated from you such a long time?" I asked. "You've already been here for two weeks."

A smile that was more or less rueful began to curve Carlisle's lips. His voice was gentle as he spoke, but the earlier wistfulness returned. His every word exuded it.

"Esme will be fine," he stated quietly. "My absence won't trouble her. Try not to concern yourself with it, Bella."

A frown made its way to my face. There was something conflicting about the way Carlisle acted. The gentle tone of his voice, the smile on his lips that was a little sorrowful... I couldn't understand what was going on with him.

Confused words were playing on my tongue, but before I could form them, my eyes caught the movement of Carlisle's hands as he crossed his fingers again. Almost by accident, my gaze landed on his left hand.

Empty. The ring finger of his left hand was empty.

I felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. I was so confused and even shocked that for a moment I couldn't utter a word.

Carlisle noticed my stare and the way my eyes were fixed upon the finger where the silver ring had once been. He met my gaze as I finally looked at him. I struggled to form words - I struggled to form _thoughts_.

"What's happened?" I asked, having lost all the discretion. "Where's your ring?"

Carlisle offered me a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's a long story," he murmured, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

I waited in silence, too dumbstruck to say or ask anything else. And I didn't even know if he wanted talk about it in more detal. I was sure that the subject must be unpleasant for him.

I thought about Esme and Carlisle, the unbreakable bond they had shared. The thought of them suddenly not being together was simply impossible to understand. And I had to ask myself: if their love hadn't lasted, what would?

Carlisle observed me as the range of emotions passed on my face. He didn't seem uncomfortable or unwilling to talk about it as I had expected. I was actually quite surprised to see how openly he seemed to relate to the matter.

"I can understand your confusion," he stated softly.

I nodded, fumbling for words. "Yeah," I murmured. "It's difficult to comprehend. I mean... I'm sorry," I eventually stuttered, having no idea what to say.

Carlisle's smile was soft. "Don't be, Bella," he answered. "It happened a long time ago. I've made my peace with it. We both have."

I kept staring at him, unable to understand how he could take it so calmly. The word neither or us had said out loud was too common to describe all this. The word divorce – it sounded so ordinary and even plain in my ears. It had no way to define whatever had happened between them. Define the ending of something that was supposed to be constant. Everlasting.

Carlisle's demeanor was calm and serene, but I couldn't help but remember that odd seriousness I had sensed in him a couple of times. Now I had an explanation for it, for that quiet sorrow that passed in his eyes every now and then. And how could he not be sorrowful – after spending several decades with someone, after loving that person year after year, decade after decade, it was impossible not to mourn the loss of it.

"It's... I can't wrap my mind around this," I heard myself mumbling. "I'm sorry," I said again.

Carlisle's smile was sympathetic. "I once was as well," he said softly. "But the feeling left me a long time ago. And not everything has changed between Esme and me. Some things have, but not those that really matter."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Carlisle gazed around the room, his eyes landing on the row of photographs on the table under the window. "I mean that Esme and I are on good terms. And we always were – that particular thing never changed."

Now I was really confused. I couldn't understand how that worked. How could you experience the ending of a relationship with someone and be on good terms with that person the entire time? I though about me and Adrian. Even though we were good friends now, it didn't mean that the end of our relationship had passed without any negative feelings.

Carlisle sensed my confusion. I guess it wasn't that hard not to since I was still frowning profusely, trying to wrap my mind around everything he had told me.

"Perhaps I should start from the beginning," he suggested.

I hesitated, not wanting to force him to talk about it if he didn't want to. But Carlisle seemed approach the subject very openly, not seeming at all reluctant to tell me more. I knew I couldn't have been able to relate to the matter so effortlessly.

"About six years ago, we lived in Alaska for a short period time," Carlisle began to explain. "We have friends there, a coven similar to ours. Did Edward ever mention the Denalis?"

I pondered, shaking my head. "The name is familiar, but that's about it." I shrugged, wondering how many things I had forgotten along the years.

Carlisle nodded. "They are our close allies. Or family, more likely. They share our view when it comes to protecting humans and refraining from our natural diet."

I raised my brow, surprised to hear that there was another family of vampires out there who fed on animals instead of humans.

"In any case," Carlisle continued, leaning against the back of the couch, "Esme and I traveled there after receiving a request to aid them with something. I contacted Edward, and Rosalie and Emmett as well. They were somewhere in Russia at the time. Had I been able to reach Jasper and Alice, the situation that awaited us in Alaska possibly wouldn't have surpised us that much." He gave a dry laugh. There was little joy in the sound. "Alice could have been able to warn us, perhaps."

"Where were Alice and Jasper?" I asked.

"Traveling around Africa," Carlisle answered. I had a sudden image of Jasper dangling from a liana somewhere in the depths of a rainforest.

"I don't know if Alice already knew about the unexpected situation that awaited us," Carlisle continued. "She probably did, but she was unable to communicate with us at the time."

"What was the unexpected situation?" I asked cautiously.

Carlisle drew in a breath, leaning his elbows to his knees. "On a hunting trip, the Denalis had encountered a nomad vampire somewhere in the mountains. He was rather uncivilized – untamed – even though he wasn't that young."

"Young?" I asked. "You mean, like a child?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No. I mean that he wasn't a newborn – a vampire at the very beginning of his new life. The thirst is at its worst during the first months, even to the point that it is nearly uncontrollable."

"But the nomad wasn't like that," I stated, making sure I had understood correctly. "A newborn."

"He wasn't," Carlisle confirmed. "But even so, he was having difficulties to control himself." He fell silent for a while, staring at the wall across the room and evidently reliving those moments that had taken place six years ago. "An untamed vampire like him could have been dangerous," he explained quietly. "For us and the Denalis, but above all, for humans."

"What happened to him?"

Carlisle met my gaze, giving me a reassuring smile. "The Denalis had a reason to believe that even though this nomad had been living his life without an ounce of control over himself, he hadn't been doing it out of evilness. He just hadn't known that there was an option to the way he had been living."

"That's why the Denalis asked for your help?" I guessed. "To teach the nomad about other ways to live?"

Carlisle nodded. "When dealing with a vampire who is more or less erratic, it's always safer for all concerned when there are enough other vampires present to control the situation. Even though the nomad was eager to learn and grateful for our help, there were a couple of times when the situation could have ended very badly. Luckily Jasper and Alice arrived to help us after some time. Jasper's ability to control moods proved to be helpful, not to mention Alice's visions. "

I nodded, trying to picture everything in my mind, only to realize that it was pretty difficult. I didn't know anything about teaching vampires about self-control. It was a pretty challenging thing to imagine.

"Did he learn eventually?" I had to ask.

"Yes," Carlisle answered. "It was mostly because of his own determination. He had never wanted to harm people – it was just something he had gotten used to doing. He was very relieved to learn that there was another way to live, and his positive attitude towards the matter made the task a lot easier. It took over a year, almost two, but eventually his self-control began to improve. He's still unsure about himself around humans, afraid that he might harm them. But he's come a long way, I have to admit."

In my ears the story seemed to have a happy ending, but I still had a feeling it wasn't completely over yet. And I still didn't know what it had to do with Carlisle and Esme and their decision to go on their own ways.

Carlisle reached out for one of the books on the table, but I noticed he didn't focus to look at it more closely.

"Did the nomad decide to stay with the Denalis?" I ventured to ask after Carlisle had been silent for a while.

He raised his gaze, but his eyes were fixed upon something over my shoulder. "For a short moment," he answered, speaking slowly. "But eventually something compelled him to leave. Because it wasn't the Denalis he was destined to spend his life with."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Carlisle met my gaze, wetting his lips before continuing. His voice was quiet. Strong, but very quiet. "I mean Esme," he stated softly.

It took a while for me to understand what he had said. And a while more until I managed to put everything together. But it still didn't turn out more understandable. I played over his words again, trying hard to comprehend what he was trying to say.

My head began to hurt. I didn't know if it was because it was the middle of the night and I was supposed to be sleeping, or was it because I was sitting in my living room with a nearly four-hundred-year old vampire who just told me that his wife had ditched him because of another man.

"Oh," I heard myself murmuring.

Carlisle waited patiently, observing my expressions as his words sunk in.

"But..." I shook my head, unable to understand. I had never thought that Esme could do such a thing – to Carlisle of all people. When I had last seen them, they had been happy and very much in love, even after all that time they had been together. I had always thought that time couldn't affect the Cullens the way it affected other people. That love between them was something that didn't fade as the years passed by. That it only got stronger with time. Not weaker.

That's what I had thought.

A mental image of Esme, a frail memory blurred by years, rose to my mind. I remembered those few times when I had seen her interacting with Carlisle, and I couldn't doubt the fact that they had shared something rare. Something most people never managed to find. How was it possible that something like that had changed?

I knew sometimes you were a slave for you own heart. You didn't choose the person you fell in love with – it was something that couldn't be decided rationally. Because love wasn't rational. But still, the thought of Esme falling in love with another man seemed almost inconceivable. What baffled me even more was the way Carlisle seemed to take it. He might have already dealt with it and moved on – that's what he had said. That he wasn't sorry about the things that had happened.

But still... Could anyone ever go through something like that and survive unscathed?

I met Carlisle's eyes; he was still watching me.

"I'm curious of your thoughts," he stated with a soft voice. "You look like you are shaken to the core."

I cleared my throat, biting my lip. "I guess I am," I stated, shrugging. "I don't understand how Esme..." I paused, shaking my head. I didn't want to sound judgemental, but at the same time I wondered how else to react.

"What you have to understand, Bella," Carlisle began quietly, "is that Esme never had any intention to cause me sorrow. She was equally helpless in the situation as I was. As anybody else would've been."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

There was patience in Carlisle's golden amber eyes; kindness. I couldn't understand where he got that.

"These things sometimes happen among vampires," he explained. "Some live through centuries, even milleniums without experiencing it. But those who are fortunate enough to encounter it... Well, it's needless to say that they should feel extremely blessed for finding it."

"Finding what?" I asked, not sure I understood. "Love?"

A curious expression came over Carlisle's face. "In a sense," he answered, searching for words. "I'd say it's something more complex than love. Not that I am willing to understate love and the meaning of it," he added, rubbing his chin with his fingers in a pondering manner. "But what happened between Esme and that nomad wasn't just love. In that instant when they saw each other... there was just something that passed between them, something the rest of us may have witnessed but only Esme and Miguel truly felt. Experienced."

"Miguel?" I asked, realizing it was the first time Carlisle spoke the nomad's name.

He nodded.

"I'm still a little lost," I confessed, mulling over his words. "What is this thing, exactly? Why does it happen between vampires? And why is it more complex than love?"

Carlisle's shoulders rose to a shrug. "Nature works in mysterious ways," he mused. "Even with our kind."

"So," I paused, straightening my form in the chair and trying to improve the blood circulation in my feet. I had been sitting down for too long. "So basically what happens is that you see this certain person and just instantly fall in love?"

"In a sense," Carlisle answered, hesitating. "I've been told that you feel this indescribable pull towards that person who is your mate. And I've also been told that the feeling is difficult to describe with words – that you have to experience it to know. But I suppose you could say that in that moment when you meet your mate, an instant bond – or a union – is formed."

"And that's what's happened between Esme and that Miguel guy," I stated, causing Carlisle to nod.

"Yes," he answered softly.

"And it's not like... voluntary in any way?" I asked. "This mate-thing...It's sounds cruel that your entire fate is decided during one fleeting moment."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Carlisle's lips. "I suppose life can be that way sometimes," he murmured. "Those things that happen in that one short moment can sometimes seem like cruelties. But they can also be blessings. It depends on how you are looking at it."

His words were wise, and I found myself admiring the way he saw the world. Even after everything that had happened.

"So you're not at all resentful?" I asked. "About everything that happened?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No," he answered. "Of course I was sorrowful, at first," he admitted. "And I felt like I lost a vital part of my life, of my very essence, to someone else. But I could never resent Esme because of what happened. She was choiceless in that situation. And she felt guilty about it – for a very long time. But when I earlier said that nothing has truly changed between us, I was being honest. The love between her and me hasn't gone anywhere. It has simply changed into something else; friendship."

I nodded in silence, not sure what to say. I still felt a little off balance, trying to absorb everything he had told me.

"So this mating bond-thing happens only between vampires?" I asked.

Carlisle nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Those stories among humans that tell about soulmates aren't completely unfounded, I suppose."

"Soulmates," I muttered, nearly scoffing. "And here I thought those things happen only in books."

A small smile made its way to Carlisle's lips. The twinkle in his eyes was almost playful. "Do you not believe in soulmates, Bella?"

"I believe when I see it," I stated, giving him a wry smile.

It was silent again. Only the sound of raindrops pattering against the window was heard. I looked at the darkness outside, covering my mouth with my hand as a yawn escaped my lips.

Carlisle glanced his watch, nearly grimacing. "I've kept you up way too long," he apologized, rising up from the couch.

"Don't worry about it," I brushed it off, also getting up and dropping the moist towel in my hands on the coffee table.

Carlisle made a move towards the door, apparently intending to go back outside into the rain.

"Why wouldn't you stay?" I suggested, gesturing towards the window. "It's still raining out there. You don't have to go back outside."

"I don't wish to disturb you any more than I have," he answered, running a hand through his moist hair. "And you're wonderful to ask me to stay, but - "

"You're not disturbing me," I insisted, cutting him off. "But of course if it makes you uncomfortable to stay..." I challenged him and fell silent, quirking an eyebrow at him.

A small laugh left Carlisle's lips. "Of course it doesn't," he stated.

"Then stay," I insisted.

Carlisle seemed to run out of excuses. He gave me a consenting smile, nodding his head.

I was just about to bid him goodnight and go to my bedroom when an idea popped into my head. I gestured for him to follow me, suddenly knowing how he could make his hours pass more quickly.

Carlisle followed me after a short moment of hesitation, a confused expression on his face.

"I don't want you to die of boredom or anything," I said dryly, leading him past my bedroom to the end of the short hallway. Opening the wooden door ahead of me, I revealed him the room that was possibly the dearest place to me inside this house.

The room wasn't huge, but it was bigger than my bedroom. All the four walls were covered with shelves, and every corner and available space was filled with books. There was a small couch resting in the middle of the room, a rectangular wooden coffee table situated in front of it.

"It's my library," I told Carlisle, turning to see his reaction. "I know it's a little tiny, but..."

Carlisle was gazing around the room, a small smile playing on his lips. "I should have known you have one," he murmured almost as if to himself, ignoring my latter sentence. He didn't seem to think little of my collection of books, even though I knew he probably had twenty times more himself.

"Knock yourself out," I smiled at him, turning to leave. "I'm sure you've read most of them during you long life, but maybe you'll find a few you haven't seen yet. Like one or two, maybe."

Carlisle smiled at my jest. "I'm sure there is something I find intriguing." His eyes were already scanning the amount of books, a look on his face that was very familiar to me. It was the look of enchantment, one that only books could induce in certain persons.

"This is wonderful," he turned to say before I left. "Thank you, Bella."

"Think nothing of it," I answered, turning to leave. A pleased smile played on my lips as I made my way to my bedroom, crawling under the covers. I suddenly wondered what I'd have said if a month ago someone had told me that there'd soon be a vampire wandering around in my tiny library. I probably would have laughed and not believed it.

To be honest, I still had trouble believing it.

* * *

The enticing aroma of coffee drifted into my nostrils, gently arousing me from sleep. My eyelids were heavy and it took a while until I managed to open them. Suppressing a tired groan, I pushed myself up from the bed. Only the strong smell of coffee made me do that – without it I probably would have just thrown my alarm clock out of the window and continued my slumber.

As tempting as the smell of fresh coffee was, I teetered my way into the bathroom first, rushing through the shower. After putting on my clothes and trying to solve the tangles in my hair, I made my way to the small kitchen that was attached to the living room.

The golden-haired deity was standing in front of the window with his back towards me. When I arrived, he turned to give me a small smile.

"Good morning," he greeted.

I mumbled something incoherent back at him. Apparently even the shower hadn't managed to wake me up properly.

Carlisle gave me a confused smile, gesturing towards the coffee maker. "I took the liberty to make you some coffee," he stated, taking a step closer to the counter to pour me a cup. "It seems my effort wasn't entirely pointless."

I wondered how tired I looked. Our little chit-chat last night was really taking its toll.

"Thank you," I sighed, accepting the coffee he offered. I could have hugged him because he had bothered to make it, but I chose not to. It'd be inappropriate. "It was sweet of you."

Carlisle didn't respond, only gave me a small smile.

I sat down at the small table under the window, nursing my coffee and looking outside. It was still dark.

"The rain stopped," I noted, still not able to say anything more constructive.

Carlisle was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "Yes," he answered. "Approximately around five." He searched me with his gaze, an apologetic expression coming over his face. "You seem tired. It was foolish of me to keep you awake last night."

I shook my head, brushing off his apologies. "It's fine. It was nice to talk."

He nodded, hesitantly pulling himself a chair opposite of me. A small frown furrowed his brow as he sat down. "You've seemed to be more tired that usually," he noted cautiously. "Not just this morning, but during the past days as well."

I quirked my brow at him, wondering how closely he had been observing me. It was difficult to know since I had barely caught a glimpse of him in several days.

"I've just been busy," I answered honestly. "With the bookstore and everything."

Carlise nodded. "Yes, I've seen you going there. For some reason I wasn't that surprised when I heard that you work in a bookstore," he stated, giving me a small smile.

"Actually," I sipped another mouthful of coffee, enjoying the strong aroma. "I'm not just working there. I own that bookstore."

Carlisle couldn't hide his surprise. His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline, but then a warm smile began to curve his lips. "That is wonderful, Bella," he said, seeming genuinely happy to hear it. "I wasn't aware."

I shrugged, giving him a smile. "Neither was I when I first came to Buffalo. I had never even fathomed the idea of owning a bookstore. It was something that had never come to my mind. It was a bit crazy to buy it after the previous owner retired, but I haven't regretted it one bit."

He smiled, a glimmer in his eyes I couldn't quite decipher. "How long have you owned it?" he asked.

"A little over a year," I answered. "But I had already worked there for a long time before buying it. So becoming the owner wasn't really a jump into something unknown."

"How is everything going?"

I shrugged again, giving him a small smile. "Okay," I answered. "The money is sometimes tight, especially when it's really quiet and the customers are scarce. But luckily it never lasts too long. I'll always manage, somehow."

I drank the rest of the coffee, rising up from the chair to pour myself another cup. Carlisle was one step ahead of me, standing up from his chair to reach out for the pot. I thanked him quietly as he refilled my cup. As I sat down again, I gave him a curious look.

"You know," I stated casually, "for someone who doesn't drink coffee at all, you're pretty good at making it."

Carlisle gave a small laugh, also sitting back down. "One tends to learn a thing or two over the long deades." He turned his gaze at the window, looking outside into the darkness. The warm smile on his lips began to fade slowly, a pondering frown appearing to his face. I wondered where that sudden change of mood came from.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

Carlisle gave me a surprised glance, the expression on his face smoothening. "Everything is well," he answered. "I was only contemplating the situation." He was silent for a moment, turning to meet my questioning gaze. "Alice called last night," he revealed.

I quirked my brow. "Did she have any news?"

Carlisle shook his head. "Not much. Edward, Rosalie and Emmett still haven't found a sign of Victoria. They are beginning to consider whether or not they should continue the search."

"So it's beginning to seem unlikely that she's got something to do with this," I stated.

Carlisle nodded, hesitating. "We can't be sure about anything, but perhaps it's time we begin to consider other possibilities."

Frowning at my coffee cup, I wondered if there was anyone else who would go through all the trouble just to get rid of me. It seemed unlikely that even Victoria would suddenly want to do it after all these years.

"What are these other possibilities?" I asked, still wondering why I wasn't scared out of my mind. If some bloodthirsty vampire was planning to end my life in one way or another, logically I should have been a little more worried than I was. Maybe I just didn't know how to fear anymore – I had to admit that it was a dangerous quality considering how accident-prone I was.

I glanced at the clock, cussing quietly before Carlisle managed to answer my question. I knew I probably shouldn't have worried about being late from work since there were more urgent matters to be discussed, but Carlisle gave me an understanding glance, promising to tell me more about it later.

"Although, I don't have much to tell," he admitted, a frustrated expression passing on his face. "For weeks we've been trying to find out more about the situation, but we aren't much wiser than when we began. All we can do is make assumptions."

I went to my bedroom, grabbing my coat and a couple of papers I needed today, and then made my way back to the living room. I pondered Carlisle's words, thinking that there had to be something mysterious about everything if even the Cullens had difficulties to make heads or tails of it.

"Maybe things will sort themselves out," I said, trying to stay positive and not worry about it too much. "They have a tendency to do that."

"That is true," Carlisle admitted with a smile, but he didn't sound too confident. He began to make his way to the door as I put out the lights and switched off the coffee maker.

"I'll walk you to the store," he offered as we stepped outside and I locked the door behind me. The day was slowly dawning, but it was still a little dark. I had to admit it felt nice to have someone walking with me. It was only then when I realized how lonely I got sometimes. Loneliness had never bothered me that much, and I had gotten used to it very quickly after Adrian had moved out. But now I had to admit that Carlisle's company was welcome.

The cold wind permeated my clothing as we walked through the silent park towards the busy streets. Though it was still early, I saw a few people milling around the streets, some of them carrying steaming cups of coffee.

"I was wondering," I began, breaking the comfortable silence, "if you've been constantly keeping an eye on me even during the daytime and seen me going into that bookstore, how come you've never come inside?" I gazed at him as I walked, watching his reaction.

He met my gaze, his shoulders rising to a small shrug.

"I considered it," he admitted. "But I didn't wish to disturb you. I saw how busy you were."

I gave a small and maybe even a little relieved laugh. "I already began to think you're avoiding me or something," I confessed.

Carlisle raised his brow. "Why would you think of such a thing?" he asked, evidently confused.

I shrugged. "For the past few days you've just seemed like you want to keep your distance."

A small frown furrowed his brow. We walked a couple of steps in silence before he answered. "I suppose I have," he admitted eventually. "But only because I had no wish to be of disturbance. I can ensure your safety and watch over you from distance without interfering your everyday life. I feel that it is enough of interference that I had to let you know of my presence."

I tried to read his tone, trying to find out if he said what he did for my benefit or his own. Did he want to keep his distance so that once this whole situation was over, it'd be easier for me to go on with my life like nothing had happened? Or did he say that so _they_ could go on like nothing had happened? It was almost like he was drawing a line, stating that all this was just about keeping me safe and nothing else. Maybe it was.

Or was he giving me the chance to draw the line, allowing me to decide where it should be?

I knew I couldn't draw it. Not right away, at least. And it was silly, because I had known this topic would come up sooner or later – I knew I should already know how I felt about everything.

Trying to solve my thoughts, I eventually decided to speak my mind. Honesty was the best policy. Wasn't it?

"I'm still trying to grasp at the fact that you're back," I confessed, searching Carlisle's eyes. "And I'm still going through all that stuff you told me in the park a few days ago. About the real reason why you left Forks, and... everything. It's not easy to instantly change the way you think about something if you've believed everything to be entirely otherwise for several years."

Carlisle nodded. "I understand." He gazed down at the pavement so I couldn't see his expression.

"I still may be confused about everything," I continued, causing him to glance at me again. "But I know that I have nothing against you being here. I'm just not sure how you feel about it. I don't know if you're apologizing for your presence because you aren't sure how _I_ feel about you being here, or are you regretting the fact that you _have to _be here. And it makes this even more confusing." I paused, looking into Carlisle's darkening amber eyes. "And if you feel like you want to watch over me from distance and not interact with me... that's fine. This doesn't have to be about anything more than that if you don't want to."

I took a deep breath, beginning to run out of air.

Carlisle listened to my outburst without a word. He ran a hand over his face, an apologetic expression coming over his face. We reached the bookstore, stopping in front of the display window near the door.

"I did not mean for my words to sound that way," he murmured. "I've been keeping distance only because I feel guilty about causing this interference in your life. Not because I've tried to avoid your company." He paused, holding my gaze for a moment. Then he glanced at the small building that was my bookstore, gesturing with his hand towards it. "I look at the life you've built for youself, Bella. And I cannot help but admire it – admire you. But I also fear that by our presence, we will ruin everything you've worked so hard for." He turned to look at me again, searching my eyes.

I took a step closer, on an impulse reaching out to take a hold of his cold hand. "You came here to warn me about danger. You didn't come here to ruin the life I've made for myself, but to preserve it. You came here to make sure I was safe. Am I right?"

Carlisle didn't say anything. He stood still for a moment or two, eventually nodding wordlessly.

"Guilt is a useless feeling," I continued. "And needless, especially when it comes to this matter. So don't waste your energy on it." I tightened my hand around his, only then realizing that I was actually holding it. Letting the smooth surface of his skin slip from my grasp, I took a step backwards. Because holding his hand was inappropriate. Wasn't it?

Carlisle smiled softly, nodding at my words again. "Thank you, Bella," he said quietly.

I gazed at the display window of the store to avoid his intense gaze. I didn't know why I felt the need to to do that. Looking into his eyes suddenly felt too intimate - too inapproriate - just like holding his hand had been.

My eyes landed on the row of books I had arranged behind the window several days ago. _Destined, _it read on one cover. For what? I wondered to myself.

Shaking my head to get rid of the thought, I began to search my pockets for the keys. I turned around to go to the door, unlocking it and giving Carlisle a questioning glance.

"Stop by in here whenever you feel like it," I suggested. "It must be boring to sit out here all day long. Wherever it is you hide all the time."

He gave a soft laugh. "I will," he promised.

I gave him a swift smile, stepping inside and turning to glance at him one more time.

But the place where Carlisle had stood was empty. I searched the streets with my gaze, watching the groups of people strolling around the sidewalk on their way to work or to school. But the man with pale skin and fair, swept-back hair was nowhere to be seen.

I closed the door behind me with a smile. And as inappropriate as it was, I suddenly remembered the feel of his cool hand in my own.


	5. After Tomorrow

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**"It's very strange when the life you never had flashes before you eyes."**_

\- Terri Minsky -

* * *

**After Tomorrow**

I had to wonder how I had managed to survive completely without coffee in the past. When I had been younger, I had always had a low tolerance for it, but I suppose somewhere along the years I had learned to drink it and even like it. And eventually down the road I had apparently become immune to the caffeine it contained. Maybe that was one of those things that came with age. Tolerance – immunity – for certain things. Such as the indescribable rush that lasted from hour to hour, or the unexpected mix-up with the book delivery – instead of the large batch of just published novels many of my customers had looked forward to buy, I received a large package of wooden clothespins. But none of that managed to unbalance me. Because I was tolerant. Because I was immune. Not only to the previously mentioned caffeine, but also to being busy and even to the presence of the three thousand clothespins I didn't need.

And also to the customers who were determined to be right about something, even when their inflexibility neared a supernatural capacity. Or maybe it was just me. Having a job that involved constant interacting with customers had made me more patient with people over the years, but nonetheless I sometimes found my so called immunity to these things failing me.

"But Mrs. Stevens," I tried again, smiling politely, "there is really nothing wrong with the color of this book."

"It's not just any book, young lady," the elderly woman on the other side of the counter chided sternly. "It's the Holy Bible, and the color matters. The Bible should never be red. Even brown would be more sufficient, but _never_ red."

"I only have a couple of these, and all of them happen to be red," I said, trying to sound apologetic.

"Red is a sinful color," Mrs. Stevens stated, efficiently negating every possible objection I still might have. "And it's the color of blood. I do not wish for my Bible to be the color of blood!"

I tried to stay patient, knowing that these things mattered to some people. Especially to those who were a little old fashioned by nature. And by age.

"Red may be the color of blood, but it's also the color of life," I decided to say, smiling.

I only received another reproachful glance from the old lady.

I decided to give up. Sighing, I lowered the bright red book on the counter, summoning another polite smile. "I can order you another one with any other color you prefer. But it'll take a few days for the order to arrive. Are you willing to wait for a couple of days or would you rather check the other bookstores in the city?"

Mrs. Stevens settled for my suggestion to order another Bible – the color of black, and nothing else – and I promised to have the book delivered straight to her home so she wouldn't have to bother coming all the way here to retrieve it.

I went to hold the door open for her, making sure she didn't trip as she hobbled out of the store with her walking cane. I made sure she crossed the street safely, returning inside only after I saw her getting into a car where a younger woman – possibly her daughter – waited.

I let out a deep breath, quickly switching the 'Open' sign hanging on the door to 'Closed'. Then I locked myself inside before anyone else would come in and insist that the books I sold were the wrong color.

The closing time of the store had come and gone a long time ago, and by the time I finished sweeping the floors and tidying up, it was already dark. I turned off the lights after locking up the cash register, then went to the door and closed it behind me. I tried the handle several times to make sure it was locked, and then I turned to face the well-lit streets, searching for the person who I knew to be somewhere close.

But Carlisle was nowhere to be seen. Again I had to wonder where he spent the long hours while I was working and silently observed my every move to make sure Alice's vision wouldn't come true.

I began my way towards the park as usually, glancing at my left and right every now and then. I hadn't forgotten Carlisle's promise to tell me more about the situation and talk about the other possibilities when it came to someone who could be after me. I found it odd that I was looking forward to see him, even when I knew the matters we would discuss weren't that pleasant.

I reminded myself that I shouldn't get used to his presence too much, thinking that once the situation had been solved, the Cullens would probably disappear from my life as quickly as they had appeared. I still didn't know how I felt about that. Now when the first shock after seeing him again had completely subsided, I was able to think that Carlisle's company was actually quite refreshing.

I had to admire the way he kept going even after everything that had happened with Esme. I thought back our conversation last night, remembering when Carlisle had said he didn't resent her in any way. I knew the compassion he felt for the people around him had no end, but I thought that the way he saw the situation with Esme brought that ability to feel compassion to an entirely another level. The inner beauty and integrity he possessed was incomparable. I suddenly realized that I found myself rather astounded by him.

I was so lost in my thoughts that the sudden movement in the corner of my eye startled me. An alarmed shriek nearly made its way to my lips as I took a quick step sideways, spinning around to face whatever lurked in the darkness of the park. My little attempt to evade combined with the sudden movement wasn't so wise, and instead of gaining the small chance to defend myself, I found myself toppling backwards, trying to break the fall with my hands.

I felt the rough gravel breaking the skin of my other palm, and I squeezed my eyes closed as I expected the back of my head to collide with the hard ground. But suddenly, something prevented it from happening.

I ventured to open my eyes as I suddenly noticed the feel of stone cold arm behind my shoulders.

Carlisle had kneeled down beside me, just in time to prevent me from competely hitting the ground. In the darkness of the evening I was able to notice that the dark amber in his eyes I had seen this morning was gone. The familiar, golden luster was back.

After that small observation, I was suddenly struggling to ignore our close proximity. Because his beautiful, sculptural face was only inches away from mine. I was very aware of my heartbeat – although, my heart wasn't really beating. It was pounding. I didn't know if it was the adrenaline running through my veins, caused by his sudden appearance, or was it something else, caused by his proximity.

"I'm terribly sorry, Bella," I heard him apologizing, his voice bringing me down to the earth again. "I didn't mean to startle you that way. Are you all right?"

I tried to make my heart calm down. It was nearly racing out of my chest.

"Yeah," I muttered, pushing myself to sit up. "You have to stop doing that."

He apologized again. I waved my hand at his words casually, starting to get up, suddenly embarrassed by my own clumsiness.

Carlisle helped me to stand, and I reached down to brush the dirt from my jeans. The palm of my right hand was stinging, and I had to check how badly the skin was broken.

"Did you hurt your hand?" he asked, carefully reaching out to turn my palm around to look at it.

"It's nothing. Just a scratch," I insisted as he examined the broken skin. It was too dark for my eyes to see if there was any blood, but apparently he was able to see the damages with perfect clarity.

"The gravel broke the skin," he murmured. "But otherwise it doesn't seem too bad."

"Told you," I muttered, flashing him a quick smile. "This is nothing. I've had a lot worse, as you know."

Carlisle gave a dry laugh. The look in his golden eyes was apologetic again. "I shouldn't have moved so quietly. It's no wonder I frightened you."

"Don't worry about it," I said, beginning to walk again. "It's not your fault I have two left feet."

He fell into step beside me, gazing around in the quiet park. "Even though I do prefer for you to stay on your feet," he stated, "it is pleasant to notice that certain things won't ever change."

I laughed, nodding. "Yeah, I suppose my clumsiness is one of those things this universe will never get rid of." I glanced at him, studying the smile on his lips and the gold of his eyes. "You've hunted," I noted, wondering how he had managed to find anything to feed on. This was a city, after all. Or maybe he had gone somewhere farther away until finding a woods or something.

Carlisle nodded. "Yes. Alice and Jasper watched over you for a couple of minutes while I was gone."

I quirked my brow in surprise. "Oh? Where are they now?" I asked, wondering if they were still around.

"They went back to our house," he answered.

"Where is this house of yours, exactly?" I asked, curious. "If you don't mind me prying."

Carlisle smiled, shaking his head. "Certainly not, Bella," he answered. "It's in Ithaca. A little over one hundred and fifty miles from here."

I nodded, thinking it was farther than I had thought. But I suppose it wasn't that easy for them to find a place they liked. Even though the money probably wasn't an issue with them, I knew the Cullens were a bit of hermits when it came to living somewhere. I knew they wanted peace and calm around them, and I suppose they'd gladly live in the middle of the forest instead of in the center of the city.

"How's your day been?" Carlisle asked. "Busy?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Or chaotic, more likely."

He gave a soft laugh, and I knew that if he had been observing me for the most of the day, he probably knew about the stuff that had happened. Everything from the ridiculous batch of clothespins to the granny who detested red Bibles.

When we reached my apartment, I asked him to come in. After a brief moment of hesitation he complied, stepping inside after me.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked suddenly, gesturing towards my hand. "I should probably clean that wound. It can get infected."

I smiled. "Ever the doctor, I see," I noted, taking off my coat and making my way to the bathroom to check the cabinets. Of course I had a first aid kit lying around – without one, I'd have probable bled to death like a million times.

I made my way back to the living room after finding it, passing it to Carlisle. After switching on more lights, I sat down on the couch, studying my hand. It had begun to bleed and was still stinging uncomfortably, but otherwise it wasn't that bad. I had an urge to hold my breath – it was an old habit more than anything else. Blood didn't make me sick like it had once used to.

"You are still a doctor, right?" I asked when he sat down beside me and began to examine my hand.

Carlisle gave me a quick smile, beginning to spread the contents of the first aid kit on the coffee table.

"Of course," he answered. "But I'm not currently working."

"Because you're stuck here with me," I stated dryly, hissing as he sprayed the cuts with antiseptic, then wiped the blood away with a piece of cotton wool. The wound began to burn, and I had an urge to curl my fingers.

He reached out for a pair of tweezers on the table, and before I even managed to wonder what he needed them for, he was already done.

"Sorry," he apologized as he sprayed the wound with antiseptic again, glancing at me briefly. "There was a piece of gravel in the cut." He examined my palm again, setting the antiseptic spray aside. "I wouldn't say that I'm stuck here with you," he commented my earlier words. "And besides, the hospitals won't disappear from this world. I'll go back to work once the situation calms down again."

His words reminded me of the conversation we'd had this morning. "About the situation," I began. "You told me earlier that there are other possibilities we should consider," I stated, giving him an inquiring look. "What are they? Who else besides Victoria could be behind the vision Alice saw?"

Carlisle was still focusing on my hand, reaching out to take a roll of gauze from the table. He wrapped it around my hand a couple of times to cover the cuts. "I suppose our other theory can be a little far-fetched," he admitted. "But it's not impossible, and that's why it's worth considering."

I waited in silence, watching his golden eyes as he examined the gauze. He let go of my hand after adding a piece of tape to the bandage, making sure it stayed attached.

"I'm not certain how much Edward told you about our world during your time in Forks," he began, starting to put the supplies back into the kit. I helped him, tossing a pair of small scissors and a pack of bandaids into the red bag.

"What should he have told me?" I asked.

A ruminative expression came over his face. He didn't answer my question directly, but instead asked a question of his own. "Did he ever tell you about the laws we should obey?"

I quirked my brow, surprised. "You have laws?" I asked.

A wry smile curved Carlisle's lips. "I take that as a no," he murmured, crossing his fingers and leaning his elbows to his knees. "There aren't that many of them in our world, to be honest," he began to explain. "Only a few, and they all concern the secrecy of our existence." He turned to gaze at me, studying my expression. "The most imperative rule is to keep humans unaware of our existence. Hunting must be inconspicuous. If we wish to live among humans, we must do it without drawing attention and move to somewhere else from time to time to prevent anyone from noticing our inability to age. We must not use our unnatural strength and speed in the presence of humans, nor we can be seen in the sunlight by anyone. Anything that could expose our true nature to humans is a crime, punishable by death."

"Wow," I murmured. "Now I know why you can't sleep at night."

Carlisle gave a short laugh. "The rules are not that challenging to follow," he stated. "Not once you learn to pay attention to everything."

"So is there someone who monitors these things?" I asked. "You said that the punishment is death if someone breaks the laws. Who carries out that punishment? Do you have your own, secret government or something?"

A curious expression came over Carlisle's face as I said the last sentence. "One might say that," he admitted. "There's a very large and powerful coven that resides in Italy – the Volturi. I suppose they could be compared to royals, guardians – in many ways they ensure the continuity of peace in our world, keeping a watch over the vampire society and intervening if needed."

The name Volturi was familiar, and I vaguely remembered Edward telling me about them. He had said they are not to be irritated.

"If needed?" I asked, mulling over Carlisle's last sentence. I didn't understand what he meant.

"If a coven grows too large and begins to draw attention, the Volturi will have to destroy it," he explained. "Or if someone creates a vampire but doesn't look after his creation and lets the newborn cause havoc and death among humans, the Volturi will punish both parties. These are just examples – there are many ways to anger them."

"These Volturi don't sound very forgiving," I noted.

"Because they aren't," Carlisle stated dryly. He glanced at me, offering me a soft smile. "It is not my intention to give you a completely unreasonable picture about them. Even though I cannot completely agree with their ways as they have the tendency to be unconditionally strict about certain matters, I still have to admit that their role and purpose as the leaders – or royals – of the vampire world is quite necessary. Without them, vampires wouldn't have a proper reason to be more... _civilized_ around humans. Not many would be safe."

"So in a certain way they preseve not only vampires, but also humans?"

"In a way," Carlisle admitted. He narrowed his eyes, an expression of displeasure coming over his face. "Except when they're thirsty. That is one of those views I do not share with them, as you know."

I nodded mutely, studying the serious expression on his face. It was obvious that his feelings were rather conflicted when it came to the Volturi.

"I spent a short period of time with them," he continued quietly. The look in his eyes was brooding. "About twenty years in the 18th century."

I gave a soft laugh. "Sounds like a really hasty visit."

He smiled briefly. "It was in vain, in the end," he murmured softly. "I tried to make them see why they should value humans instead of taking their lives. And they tried to convince me otherwise about my beliefs. They found my diet repulsive, something that was unnatural." His golden eyes stared at the surface of the coffee table, looking somewhere beyond hundreds of years. Then he shook his head as if to rid himself of the memories.

"There's much more I could tell you about the Volturi," he said. "But I think the things I've told you today are the most essential ones you should be aware of."

I nodded, having difficulties to absorb everything he had told me. "So what do you think they have to do with the situation?" I asked.

Carlisle wetted his lips, avoiding my eyes for a short moment. "Briefly explained," he began, looking into my eyes again, "when we let you into our world eight years ago, we jeopardized your life. Not only by our presence that is undeniably dangerous to you. But also by allowing you to know what we are, we put you in danger. There's no way to erase that." He paused, gazing at the coffee table again. "It is possible that somehow the Volturi have found out that a human is aware of our secret. Even though we know you're not a risk for our existence, the Volturi may see it that way. Exposure is something they fear, and they try to avoid it at any cost."

There was a long pause as Carlisle waited for his words to sink in. His voice quiet and sorrowful when he spoke again.

"If this is the case, I cannot apologize enough for what we've caused, Bella," he said quietly. "We were aware of the risk your knowledge of us could cause you, but we still knowingly let you into our world. I know it's not a proper excuse, but at the time it was so unlikely that the Volturi could someday find out about you. My biggest concern was Edward's and especially Jasper's ability to control their thirst around you – I didn't give a thought to the Volturi. And they wouldn't have even been a problem anymore once..." He stopped, shaking his head.

"Once what?" I asked.

Carlisle gazed into my eyes again, a cautious expression on his face. "Once you became one of us. Because at the time, I didn't doubt it for a second that you wouldn't."

I felt oddly disconnected from the topic. It seemed so familiar, but also very faraway at the same time. It didn't belong to my life the way it once had. Becoming a vampire had been my faraway dream, almost like a mirage that had been constantly escaping me. It had been something I had pursued out of love. But when the Cullens had disappeared from my life, also the mirage had disappeared. They were supposed to; they were only mirages, after all. It wasn't wise to chase after something that wasn't yours to chase.

And if you had to chase it in order to obtain it, I had to wonder if it was about anything true and real. Good things came to you if they did. You shouldn't have to pursue them.

"Would it have made a difference?" I asked, sounding oddly calm. "Why would becoming a vampire affect the way the Volturi think?"

Carlisle searched my face, observing my calm expression. "Because if a human finds out about us, that person has to be either changed into a vampire, or..." he paused, searching for words that already were on my lips.

"Killed," I filled in.

Carlisle nodded.

It was silent for a long moment. I tried to figure out how I felt about everything he had just told me. I suppose I should have felt a little angered to find out that they had been aware of the fact that my knowledge about them would put my life in danger that way. But I wasn't. Because in the end, it had been me who had broken the rules and stubbornly found out about their secrets. In a way, I had been aware of the risks; Edward had told me more than once to stay away, telling me that friendship between me and them was unacceptable. I just hadn't listened. I had been infatuated by his presence, by the feelings his company had caused in me. I had been a young girl hopelessly in love, and I had allowed it to take me.

A horrifying thought came to me, one that made the breath get caught in my throat and my heart beat furiously with trepidation. Carlisle noticed the change in my posture, giving me a confused frown.

"Would they punish you?" I asked. "For letting me know about you, and not changing me or getting rid of me?"

Carlisle shook his head. I didn't know if he did that to calm me down or was he being honest. "I wouldn't jump to conclusions," he stated. "Especially because what I've told you tonight is simply speculation. While it is a possibility that the Volturi are the reason behind Alice's vision, I must say that it is still highly unlikely that they know about you at all. This was onky one possibility I wanted to bring to your knowledge."

I found myself relaxing a bit, but the worry refused to leave me completely.

A small smile began to curve Carlisle's lips. "I should have known you would worry about our safety before your own," he said softly. "I hope you believe me when I say that there's no reason for you to be concerned, Bella. Not about us, and not about yourself either. The situation will be solved in one way or another. And Alice is monitoring everything the best she can, trying to get the bottom of this."

"I know," I breathed, glancing at my hands. "I just hate it. I mean... There's nothing new about it that I've managed to get myself into a mess like this. But if I've somehow endangered your lives as well..."

Carlisle touched my arm, causing me to look at him. "Things have the tendency to sort themselves out," he said softly. "That's what you told me this morning. Are you not believing your own words?"

I had to smile; he had me cornered. "I guess I have to. But only because you said it."

Carlisle nodded. "Good," he said, smiling in return.

I had to look away from his golden eyes, suddenly feeling a blush creeping to my cheeks. I couldn't understand what caused it. Carlisle removed his hand from my arm, giving me a good chance to study the gauze around my hand.

"How does your hand feel?" he asked.

"Good," I answered. The cuts were still tingling and stinging, but it didn't bother me that much.

After a moment I busied myself with making tea and something to eat. I had to wonder when was the last time I had eaten – I had been so busy today that there had been no time for that.

Carlisle tried to make up a proper excuse to leave, probably not wanting to hover around me all the time and make me uncomfortable. But I had to admit that his presence didn't bother me that much. It was nice to have some company after spending such a long time alone. My social life was rather limited – during the days there were only the customers to talk to, and at times Adrian whenever he had the time to visit me. That was about it.

My little tea indulgence was interrupted when Carlisle glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, informing that someone was coming.

I lowered the warm mug on the counter, quirking a brow at him. "Your kind or my kind?" I asked with a twinkle in my eye.

He gave me an insecure smile. "Your kind," he answered, getting up from the couch. "Do you wish me to leave?"

"Don't bother," I stopped him, gesturing him to sit back down. "I already know who it is."

Speak of the devil, I thought to myself, reaching the door just as the bell rang. I opened it to reveal a young man with dark brown eyes and hair.

"Hey!" Adrian greeted, energetic as ever. He was wearing his work clothing – stained and dusty black trouses paired with a t-shirt, a bright orange safety vest finalizing the ensemble. Apparenly he was coming straight from the construction site he was working at.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, considering his light clothing. "Wasn't it you who whined about the cool climate of Buffalo a couple of days ago?"

"Nah," Adrian answered. "I happen to be extremely warmed by the thought of leaving soon. This was my last day at work."

"Really?" I asked, letting him push himself past me into my apartment. "Congratulations," I muttered, following him and closing the door. "I didn't think you'd survive that long."

"I appreaciate the confidence you have in me, Bells. I've always known you're a – " Adrian's sarcastic comment remained a mystery as he paused, noticing Carlisle who was standing on the other side of the room by the window. He nodded at Adrian politely.

Adrian turned to me again, a wide smirk on his face. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, almost sneering.

"No," I sighed, hoping he wouldn't say anything stupid. His sense of humor was something Carlisle wouldn't probably understand.

"Um, Carlisle – this is my friend Adrian," I introduced. "Adrian – this is Carlisle. An old friend from a long time ago."

Carlisle walked across the room, quickly shaking hands with Adrian. I tried not to be uncomfortable when the latter grinned rather widely, probably nurturing some dumb comment in his head he would soon say out loud.

"Nice to meet you," Carlisle greeted pleasantly, offering Adrian a small smile.

"Pleasure," Adrian agreed with exaggerated eagerness. He turned to me again, a silly smile on his face. "I didn't know you had other friends, Bella," he teased.

"Yeah, well, I'm making a new list," I remarked sarcastically. "Since you're coming off of it."

"Ouch. That hurt."

"My heart bleeds for you," I stated, attempting to guide him back outside. He didn't even notice when I yanked at his orange safety vest, trying to get him to move.

"Carlisle, was it?" Adrian asked, sounding curious. "Are you British?"

I shot an astonished glance at him. It was odd that Adrian could connect Carlisle's name even remotely to the place where he had been born. I guess it wasn't that impossible to do since the name Carlisle was very English, but Adrian still managed to surprise me. I had thought that his general knowledge of the world was limited to junk food and bad music.

"Yes. I once had family there," Carlisle answered, and he didn't even need to lie.

Adrian nodded, beginning to say something else. He gave me another smirk, his gaze beginning to flit between me and Carlisle. I ushered him back outside before he managed to say anything, giving Carlisle an apologetic glance.

"Excuse us for a while," I told him, closing the door behind me.

As I turned to Adrian, I noticed he was looking at me from head to toe, still a very annoying grin on his face.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He ignored my question as though he hadn't even heard it. "What's with the hot dude?" he asked. "Is he your boyfriend or something?"

"Shh! And no," I answered, whispering.

"Why are you shushing? He can't hear you."

If only he knew how well he could hear us. "He's just a friend I ran into a couple of days ago," I explained, wanting to wipe the annoying smirk off his face.

"What a coinsidence," he stated with a disbelieving tone.

I rolled my eyes at his insinuations, wrapping my arms around my chest. It was really cold out here. "Seriously, what do you want? It's getting late."

"Oh, so you're kicking me out because it's late, but not him?"

"I'm kicking you out because you're annoying," I stated. "So spit it out. You wouldn't have bothered to come straight from work if you didn't have anything to say."

Adrian gave me one more smile that was a little too smarmy, and then shrugged his shoulders. "I came to get the battery charger for my camera. You have it."

"No I don't," I disagreed. "You must have lost it. Why would it be here?"

"I forgot it when I moved out," he stated. "And I didn't need it until now. I'm leaving in a couple of days and it's no use for me to take the camera if I don't have anything to charge it with."

I ran a hand through my hair, racking my brain. I had no idea where the stupid charger was.

I sighed. "Stay here and I'll look for it, okay?"

Adrian quirked his brow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Why can't I wait inside? And have a little chat with this _friend_ of yours?"

"Because," I insisted.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"You're more unpredictable than my mother! And that is a lot. You'll say something stupid and embarrass me," I whispered fervently.

"Come on, Bella. He's not gonna break from a little chat."

I sighed, deciding that I was only wasting my time. I should know it by now.

"Do what you want," I muttered, opening the door again.

Carlisle was looking politely confused as I marched back inside, fuming. "Sorry about that," I said to him. Adrian followed me inside, giving Carlisle a nod.

"Don't believe anything he says to you," I told Carlisle, disappearing into my bedroom to look for the battery charger. I heard Carlisle giving a small laugh and engaging Adrian in a casual conversation.

I looked practically everywhere. I rummaged through the drawers where I kept all the small objects such as notepads, pens, staplers and other stuff. I checked the nightstand, under the bed and even the bathroom cabinets, but I couldn't find what I was looking for. Minutes ticked my as I tortured myself with the knowledge of Adrian talking to Carlisle, silently praying he wouldn't make him uncomfortable. I knew Adrian – even though he was an easy person to be with, he also had the tendency to annoy people.

Not that Carlisle would ever get annoyed. He was too patient for that.

Sighing quietly, I ventured to peek into the drawer where I kept my nightwear and lingerie. It was the last place I looked because it was also the most implausible place to keep a battery charger. Not even Adrian could be that silly.

Except that apparently he was. Fron the bottom of the drawer, under several layers cotton, satin and lace, I found the black charger for his camera. Frustrated because of all the wasted time, I took the it and made my way back to the living room.

Adrian was eagerly explaining something to Carlisle when I appeared. He turned to me, quirking his brow.

"You took your time," he remarked.

"I'm terribly sorry," I said between my teeth. "You had hidden it in a very convenient place."

Adrian frowned, the expression in his eyes blank. Then he seemed to remember, slapping his forehead in realization like a cartoon character.

"Oh right, you mean it was in your - "

"Shush!" I stopped him, not wanting him to go blabbering about my underwear in front of Carlisle. A blush creeped to my face again. I shoved the battery charger into his hands.

Adrian seemed to be willing to leave when he had his charger back.

"Bye, Doc," he said to Carlisle, raising his hand. I walked him to the door, going outside again to see him off.

"_Doc_?" I asked as the door closed behind me.

Adrian shrugged. "Yeah. He told me he was a doctor. It's strange. He looks so young."

I ignored his last sentence, wrapping my arms around my torso and trying to stay warm.

"Thanks for the battery charger," he continued, and for the first time tonight he smiled kindly and not teasingly.

"No problem," I answered, gazing at his tall form. "So you're really leaving? Do you know when?"

"I'm not sure yet," he answered. "Within a month, maybe. Are you going to hold onto your promise and help me with my stuff?"

"Of course," I assured. "Just call me when you need me."

Adrian's smile turned a little wistful. "Still haven't changed your mind about coming with me?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Come on, Bella," he began to persuade for the millionth time. "It'd be fun and exiting. You and me together... How can you say no?"

"Adrian, we've been over this," I said quietly. "We'd argue all the time until either of us would get fed up and leave. And we're so different from each other. You're constantly wanting to go somewhere, never staying still... I'm not like that. I want to settle down, and you don't. My life is here. Maybe yours isn't, but mine is."

Adrian sighed, running a hand though his short hair. He glanced at me, taking a sudden step closer and doing something so unexpected even for him that I didn't have the time to realize what was happening.

The kiss was quick, desparate... and one-sided. I pulled away from his lips, shoving his chest with my hands and taking a step back.

"Don't do that," I asked, trying not to get upset.

"Why not?" Adrian asked, as shameless and self-confident as usually.

"Because it's inappropriate," I stated, turning away. "Good night, Adrian."

"Hey, don't be mad," I heard him saying, grabbing my shoulder. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just have this soft spot for you, I guess."

I had to laugh, momentarily forgetting my chagrin. "You don't have a soft spot for _anyone_."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess that's true," he admitted, giving me a familiar, crooked smile that I was more accustomed to. "So," he said. "You're not coming, then?"

"No, Adrian," I said, more gently this time. "I'm not coming with you."

He nodded, finally submissive. "Damn," he muttered. "I knew I should have asked that girl from the bar."

I snorted softly, shaking my head and not knowing if he was joking or not. "Nothing stops you from going back and finding her. Maybe she says yes even when I don't."

"Maybe," Adrian smirked. He raised the battery charger with his hand, beginning to back away. "I'll call you," he promised.

I nodded, raising my hand as a goodbye and watching him disappearing into the night.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath, I went back inside. Carlisle was still standing by the window across the room, giving me a polite smile as I entered.

"Sorry about that," I said.

He cleared his throat, walking a step or two closer. "He seems like a nice young man," he stated, giving me a long look.

A small laugh escaped my lips as I sat down on the couch. "'Seem' being the keyword," I murmured. "I hope he didn't pebble you with silly jokes or anything. He can be quite a little annoying sometimes. And that's nicely put."

Carlisle shook his head, smiling. His gaze creeped towards the row on photos resting on the table under the window, his eyes landing on the one with me and Adrian standing by the lake. The setting sun behind us colored the picture with different tones of yellow and orange.

He gave me a curious glance, causing me to wonder why he was looking at me like that.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

Carlisle walked closer, sitting down in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. "Nothing," he answered. "I was only wondering about the story with you two."

I quirked my brow at him. "What makes you think there's a story?"

His shoulders rose to a shrug. "I gathered as much from the way you acted around each other."

"You mean our bickering?" I asked, giving a small laugh. "I hope we didn't remind you of an old, married couple or anything."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You reminded me of Emmett and Rosalie, actually."

I had to roll my eyes. Pondering for a while, I wondered how to explain the complicated situation between me and Adrian. It wasn't that simple. "He just happens to be like that - silly, I mean," I murmured. "I'm almost immune to the stupid things he says, but sometimes he has the ability to push my buttons." I paused for a while, glancing at the picture under the window. "I met him a couple of years ago just after I moved here. We were instantly friends – you know when you meet someone, and get the feeling that you've known this person forever?"

Carlisle nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"That's how it was like " I shrugged. "Somewhere down the road I went head over heels for him – poor me. It was something I did not expect to happen at all." I glanced at my hands, beginning to feel strange. It was odd to talk to Carlisle about stuff like this, but not uncomfortably odd.

"What happened?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious. I glanced at his golden eyes, surprised that he didn't seem to feel awkward for having to listen to my little story.

I shrugged again, thinking back those times that seemed to be somewhere far away. "We were inseparable, at first. We even moved in together really fast," I explained. "But it didn't work out. Eventually we just decided to be friends again – that seemed to work out the best with the two of us."

Carlisle frowned. "What went wrong?" he inquired. "If you don't mind me asking."

I shook my head, trying to form a proper answer. "He proposed," I admitted.

He frowned again. "Isn't that supposed to be a joyous occasion?"

I gave him a wry smile. "I guess. But I suppose Adrian thought it was the solution for everything that simply wasn't functioning with us. We were driving each other crazy – we weren't just bickering like usually, but actually fighting and arguing about everything. It was stressfull."

Carlisle nodded, looking sympathetic. "I believe it was."

I gave him a rueful smile, leaning my elbow to the arm of the couch. "I know that maybe we shoud have tried harder and given it some time. But also... Well, I'm sure you've heard all that talk about opposites complimenting each other? I think it's pure crap. Maybe some people can make it work, but..."

Carlisle linked his fingers, giving me a long look. "Why not you?" he asked.

I pondered about his question for a while. "Because we were equally different from each other, but also equally stubborn."

He gave a small laugh, then. "That sounds like quite a stormy combination."

I smiled. "It was."

"You seem to be on a friendly footing with him," he noted. "Despite everything that happened."

I nodded. "Yeah. We're better off as friends than anything else. If only we had known that from the start. Would have saved us from a lot of trouble."

It was silent for a while. Carlisle reached out for the newspaper he hadn't managed to finish when Adrian appeared, but he didn't focus to read it. "Did I understand correctly that he is moving away?" Carlisle asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, within a month. I always knew he would, someday."

Carlisle quirked his brow.

"He's kind of a restless soul," I explained. "Never able to stay still or settle down. I think this is the longest he's spent in one place."

Carlisle nodded. "You will miss him," he said softly.

I met his eyes, surprised. I opened my mouth to say something, but for a moment I didn't find the words.

"I've always known he'd leave," I eventually stated, not able to figure out anything else to say. "I'm used to the idea by now."

Carlisle narrowed his eyes, but seemed to accept my answer. He placed the newspaper back on the table, getting up from the couch. "I should take my leave," he said, offering me a smile. "It's getting late, and I don't wish to keep you up."

I glanced outside through the window, hesitating. It wasn't raining like last night, but the thought of kicking him out into the night felt bad.

"You can stay," I offered. "I mean, you don't have to spend your nights outside if you don't want to. There's really no reason for it. You might as well stay here."

"Thank you, Bella," Carlisle smiled, "but I must decline."

I quirked my brow, looking at the floor to hide the sudden disappointment. "Are my books that bad?" I asked, half-joking, remembering him spending the previous night in my small library.

He chuckled quietly. "They are splendid. But I cannot stay – I've promised to meet Alice and Jasper in a few moments to exchange news."

The sudden urge to go with him and see Alice and Jasper nearly startled me. I tried to explain the feeling to myself, thinking that I just wanted to be up to date about the situation. And I did want to. But somehow I knew it was only one half of the truth.

I was forced to scrutinize my feelings, to wonder if I was willing for another piece of my long gone past to return. Carlisle had eased his way back into my life so effortlessly that it almost felt like he had been in Buffalo for much longer than just a couple of days. Would that happen with Alice and Jasper as well? And eventually with Emmett, Rosalie, Esme and Edward... Would I suddenly find myself living my life, surrounded by vampires, those little pieces of my past, for the second time in my life? Did I even want that?

Shaking the thought away, I had to admit that I was getting ahead of myself. And the matter wasn't eventually something only I should decide; the Cullens should have their say in the matter as well. For all I knew, this could all be only about keeping me safe and nothing more, like I suspected. It was very possible that they had no intentions to linger after the situation was over.

I raised my eyes to see Carlisle again, and I watched him walking to the door and preparing to leave. I knew he'd come back again. I knew I'd see him tomorrow.

But as he turned to me one more time, giving me a warm smile and quietly wishing me goodnight before stepping through the door, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen after tomorrow. And I couldn't help but wonder what would happen when someday, he'd step through my door for the last time, leaving forever.


	6. Water Under The Bridge

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

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**_"People who have lost relationships often wonder why they can't just let it be "water under the bridge." _**

**_It is water under the bridge - the trouble is we do not live on the bridge but in the river of life with its many twists and turns."_**

\- Grant Fairley -

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**Water Under The Bridge**

I pulled the zipper of my coat as high as it would go and stuffed my hands in the depths of my pockets. I had taken only a few steps outside and already I was freezing. Maybe there was some truth in Adrian's claims; Buffalo wasn't the warmest place in the world. But I refused to let it bother me. The cold weather would pass eventually, simply because it was nothing more than that - just a temporary state of weather. And it wasn't the climate that had drawn me to Buffalo in the first place, let alone tempted me to stay.

I thought back at the time when I'd moved from Phoenix to Forks all those years ago, and I remembered the hopeless melancholy the rainy town had caused in me. It was nearly difficult to comprehend that now, to think that something as insignificant as the weather could've once had such an effect on me. To make me hate the town where I had been born, the town that should have been very dear to me in many ways. Not only it had been my first home, whether I remembered much about it or not, but it was also the place where my parents had met. And where Charlie still lived, and probably would live for the rest of his life.

Therefore the small town should have been an endless topic of curiosity to me, all the way from the beginning. As a child and as a teenager, I should have been asking more about the time when Renée and Charlie had met. I should have been curious about those things like so many others at my age and with similar backgrounds. I should have been more curious about the story behind my parents, about what had brought them together and so on. I knew about the things that had occurred after I had been born; I knew about the things that had eventually separated them and caused Renée to leave and take me with her. But everything that had been before that... Well, it was a mystery to me.

Because when I had been younger, I had never brought myself to ask about those things. I had never begged either one of my parents to tell me about the day when they had met, or where exactly in Forks their paths had crossed. I had never been curious about the place where they'd gone on their first date, never asked where Charlie had proposed and what kind of wedding they'd had. Now when I considered it, several years later, I thought that I should have behaved differently. I felt like I'd never been the child, the teenager, the _person_ I was supposed to be.

For instance, I should have been more eager to see Charlie when Renée had insisted for me to go to pay my usual two-week visit to him every summer. But I had never been eager. I had only been reluctant. I had seen the town of Forks through a certain type of glasses – not pink, but grey. Instead of the place that should have been my second home, the place where my father lived and looked forward to see me, I had only seen a depressing, miserable backward town where the clouds covered the sky most of the time. And I had thought: who'd want to live _there_? Who'd spend even a small portion of their time, possibly even their life in a place like that, and do it voluntarily? The small town of Forks had seemed to lack so many things back then, things that were now more or less irrelevant to me.

When I had been younger, I hadn't seen beyond those thoughts, beyond those opinions that had once been so part of me. For a long time, I'd seen the town through an endless veil of rain, and nothing else beyond that. That's why I now felt that I had lost so many things that had been within my reach back then, just because I had decided to overlook them.

It wasn't until now, a long time afterwards, when I realized that it wasn't Forks that had lacked something. It'd been me who had fallen short when it had come to living and changing, and accepting that life wasn't all about endless amounts of sunshine. And now I knew; it didn't matter where you were, and it didn't matter if the sun was shining or if the rain was pouring down from the skies. Wherever you happened to be, what really mattered was that you were comfortable, happy, within yourself. And it also mattered who you were with.

A shiver rippled through me again, and I sped up my steps, waiting for my muscles to warm up. I pulled up the collars of my coat to shield my neck, not wanting to catch a cold. I had no time nor will to get sick.

Carlisle noticed my shivering, giving me a glance as he walked beside me. "Are you certain you wish to take a walk?" he asked.

"Yes," I insisted, meeting his glance and hearing an echo of my earlier thoughts in my answer. "Chilly weather is no excuse to stay indoors and stop living."

I thought I could see an amused smile passing on his lips as he turned his gaze away and agreed quietly.

The park was dark and deserted as we made our way along the paved footpath. It had nearly become a habit of ours to do that every night. When I got home from work, Carlisle usually accompanied me on my evening walks. The simple everyday occurrence had begun to feel almost comfortable. And Carlisle's company was... interesting. Different. During my short time in Forks, I hadn't really gotten the chance to get to know him, to know the man behind the founder of the Cullens. Of course I knew things about him, things that Edward had told me and things I had observed in him myself.

During these past few days he had kept me company, I had nearly begun to feel drawn to his presence, to the aura of time and experience around him. It's not that I thought he was old, and nowhere near boring. I was simply intrigued about the way his mind worked and how he always seemed to be able to see the whole picture. Instead of overlooking smaller details someone else might claim as unimportant, Carlisle payed attention to them. He was rarely prejudiced, always striving to see what most people didn't even try. It couldn't be a vampire attribute – I didn't remember Edward being as open-minded as Carlisle was. I suppose that trait came from experience, after centuries of living and witnessing things I couldn't even begin to imagine.

But above all, it was in Carlisle's nature, that open-mindedness. That ability to see what others couldn't.

I turned my head to look his way, a question I had harbored a long time wanting to break free.

"Can I ask you something?" I queried, earning a surprised glance from him.

"Certainly, Bella," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Looking ahead of me, I tilted my head to the side, suddenly hesitating. "Why you?" I eventually asked, turning to look at him again. "How come you came to Buffalo to inform me about Alice's vision? Don't get me wrong – I have nothing against it. I'm just curious."

Carlisle pondered my question, seeming suddenly unsure what to answer.

"Don't tell me you drew straws," I stated when he had been silent for a full minute.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Of course not. I volunteered," he admitted. "And if we had drawn straws, I'm sure it would have been about who _gets_ to leave to watch over you and not about who _has_ to. Alice, for intance, was more than thrilled about the thought of seeing you again."

I felt oddly complacent about his words, and I tried to hide the smile they had evoked. Carlisle was silent for a moment or two more, eventually turning to look at me again.

"Why did you volunteer?" I asked, still curious.

He pondered my question, his shoulders rising to a small shrug. "I felt that... it'd be the most appropriate if it was me who came to see you. We wanted you to be comfortable."

I nodded, suddenly glad that it had been Carlisle who had come to see me. I didn't know how I would have reacted if it had been Edward – or Rosalie, for example – appearing to my doorstep after eight years of absence. I had always been on a friendly footing with Carlisle, and I had never felt uncomfortable in his presence. He had that certain calm in him that made me instantly relax. And it wasn't just about the inner calm he possessed. He had some sort of impartiality and ease in his company that caused me to feel serene. Safe, even, as odd as it sounded.

"I understand if you had preferred Alice," I heard him saying. He gave me a polite smile as I turned to look at him.

"Oh, not at all," I hurried to explain, realizing that he must have taken my silence in a wrong way. "I mean, I adore Alice, but I think it's nice that it was you who came. I was very fond of you in Forks," I revealed, feeling the need to say it for some reason or another.

His smile was surprised but glad as he looked at me. "I'm pleased to hear that," he replied. "I was very fond of you as well."

"Yeah, right," I gave a laugh, rolling my eyes. "At least during those short periods of time when I didn't need a million stitches or a cast on a broken limb." I lifted my right hand that was covered with a piece of gauze. My palm was still full of scratches after my little tumble a few nights ago. "It seems like there's not much change in that area," I remarked, earning a soft laugh from Carlisle.

"It's not your fault that you happen to attract troubles and injuries," he disagreed.

"Maybe it's not," I answered, smiling jestingly. "But still, it was unwise of you to offer to come and watch over me. I'm quite a handful."

Carlisle only shook his head, smiling. The sight was somehow very disarming. His golden eyes glimmered with amusement, and his words were soft as they drifted in the air, lingering around me for a long time after they had been spoken.

"Regardless of how unwise it was," he said quietly, "I'm very glad that I came."

For the rest of our walk, I wasn't cold anymore. Or maybe I was, but I didn't feel it. Because, once again, maybe it wasn't about where I was, and maybe it wasn't about the weather, cold or warm and everything in between. And maybe it wasn't about the sunshine or the lack of if. Maybe it was about the happiness within myself, and the company I was in.

* * *

I didn't see Carlisle the next day.

As usually, I walked through the park to get to the bookstore and partly expected to see his tall form waiting by the curve of the paved footpath. But minute after minute, step after step, curve after curve I was more certain that he wouldn't show up this morning. It wasn't anything unusual, as he had been absent before, but for some reason it had me wondering why he had decided to keep away once again.

The evening was no different. When I got back from the store, I walked through the darkness alone. I tried not to pay attention to the sudden feeling that I could only describe as disappointment. But I pushed it aside, not wanting to be aware of it. Because I had no reason to be disappointed. Why would I be?

The next day was Saturday. I closed the store a little earlier like always on Saturdays, for once able to walk home in daylight. While walking through the park, I stopped to gaze at the storming lake, remembering standing there at the same spot with Adrian on that night I had first seen Carlisle. He had been standing in the shadows of a birch tree, silently observing me and probably waiting for a proper moment to come and talk to me. I still rememembered my disbelief when he had emerged from the darkness, quickly showing himself to me so that I was aware of his presence. Somehow I had managed to convince myself that it had only been my imagination, and I had nearly forgotten the strange occurence by the time I had gotten home.

I could now relate to that short moment of disbelief. Even now it was easy to question Carlisle's presence when he was nowhere to be seen. At times it was almost like he disappeared from my world, crossing some mysterious line to his own side and spending a moment there, in the place where he belonged. And then he'd come back again to spend a moment with me, but I knew that eventually he'd always leave.

Because there always had to be that line. That border that couldn't be crossed – maybe momentarily it could be, but not permanently. It was highly audacious even to consider otherwise.

I walked the rest of the way home, finishing some of the paperwork I had brought with me. Owning a bookstore wasn't just about having shelves full of exciting books and getting to read them for free.

When I was done, I made myself something to eat, looking outside through the living room window while drinking my tea. In the afternoon light, I searched the trees and bushes surrounding my apartment, wondering if someone was looking back at me. And also wondering why that someone had decided to stay outside instead of coming in; why that someone had decided to stay on his own side of the line and not cross it even for a short moment.

Pouring the rest of the tea down the drain, I placed my cup on the kitchen counter and turned toward the door. Without bothering to take my coat, I stepped outside into the cool November air.

I walked briskly to the other end of the alley to my mailbox where my newspaper awaited – I had forgotten to pick it up when I got home. I pulled the paper out of the box, folding it in my hands as I gazed at the trees flanking the narrow paved road. A shiver rippled through me as the cold air brushed against my skin. The door of my apartment looked inviting at the other end of the alley, but I didn't take a step towards it. Instead, I stayed still, clutching the newspaper with my hands.

"Carlisle?" I called out quietly, gazing at my left and right, but seeing nothing but trees and bushes. A small raindrop landed on my cheek, a definite sign of impending rain that would probably last for days.

"Carlisle? Are you there?" I asked again, beginning to feel silly. But at the same time I began to feel strange. It was odd that he had been absent for almost two days now, and also refused to appear even when I called him. It made me worry. What if something had happened?

I was just about to call out his name again when a figure emerged behind the bare trees and bushes.

The fall had coated the surrounding scenery with different tones gray and brown, taking away the bright colors and leaving behind nothing but the paleness. Even the person emerging from the background of dying nature was pale. But there was nothing dying about her; nothing fading. She didn't match with the austere scenery behind her. In my mind's eye I could see her standing in a summer meadow filled with flowers.

But there were no flowers. No summer, no meadow. There was only her, and she was familiar. Everything about her was exactly that; familiar. Golden eyes, slender body, pale skin... everything. I knew this woman, but she didn't know me. At least that was the feeling I got at first. Because there was nothing but hesitancy in her as she stepped out from her hiding, searching me with her gaze. Looking at me like she had never seen me before.

Or then she looked at me like that simply because such a long time had passed since she had last seen me. Even though I was just as bewildered to see her, I realized that the passed years had affected her in no way. She looked exactly the same. It was a different case when it came to me.

The slender figure halted, staying still like the ash trees behind her. A gust of wind sweeped over her, making the trees behind her sway and the branches above her head stir, but she didn't move. Only the short locks of black hair moved in the breeze, telling me that it wasn't a statue standing in front of me. That it was a living being, not quite as mortal as I was, but a breathing and existing person nonetheless. Only she was paralyzed by hesitancy; I wondered what caused that.

I wondered what had made her cross the invisible line to my side.

"Carlisle's not here right now," she informed quietly. She studied me for a moment or two with her golden eyes, blinking. Then a small smile began to curve her lips. "Hello, Bella."

A smile of my own, a little uncertain one, rose to my lips nearly involuntarily. "Alice," I greeted, the tone of my voice something between amusement and surprise. I hadn't expected to see her – not this soon, at least. I wondered if I should be upset because of the unexpected situation, but I guess I wasn't. A little flustered maybe, but not upset.

Alice took two steps closer, her feet making no sound as she stepped on the paved road sheltered by the trees. She was smiling more freely now, a twinkle in her eye that I had once been very accustomed to. But there was uncertainty behind all that; timidity.

The muscles of her arms began to twitch ever so slightly. It looked like she tried to contain herself from throwing herself at me and giving me a fierce embrace. The sight reminded me more of the Alice I had once known, and the uncertainty seemed to disappear from her little by little.

She glanced back at the trees behind her, giving me a smile that was possibly meant to reassure. "Carlisle will be back later," she began to explain, somewhat evasively. "I stayed behind to watch over you."

I frowned, trying to read her tone. "Where is he? Has something happened?"

She began to shake her head, but hesitated. "Not really," she stated, her tone a little too reassuring. There was something she wasn't telling me – I saw it from her eyes.

The cold wind made me shiver, causing me to regret the fact that I had left my coat inside. Another raindrop landed on my cheek, followed by several other ones.

"You should go back inside," Alice suggested, noticing that I was cold. But going inside was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to know if something had happened. And I also had to admit that seeing Alice was a pleasant surprise. It had been eight years since I'd seen her. And eight years was a long time. Even though several of them had passed without me even thinking about the Cullens, I had to admit that at the beginning I had missed Alice's company horribly. I wondered if she had missed mine.

She noticed my irresolution. "Seriously, Bella. You'll catch a cold."

"What is going on, Alice?" I asked, ignoring her words. "Where did Carlisle go?"

"He'll tell you himself once he gets back," she promised.

"When? And from where?"

Alice looked uncertain again. It was odd to see her hesitating – someone who could see the future shouldn't be so uncertain.

"Why can't you tell me what's going on?" I asked. Alice didn't answer, seeming to be torn between the urge to tell me and to whisk me inside before catching a pneumonia.

I decided to make a compromise. My feet began to take me towards my apartment, but I gestured with my hand for Alice to follow me. At first I didn't think she would, but after a moment she reached me, falling into step beside me.

"I wasn't even supposed to show myself to you," I heard her muttering. "Let alone have a conversation with you."

"Then why did you?" I asked, quirking my brow at her. "And who told you not to show yourself to me?"

We reached the door of my apartment, and I quicky unlocked it as another shiver rippled through me. I guided Alice inside, kicking the shoes off my feet in the process. Then I looked her way, waiting for her to answer my question.

"Carlisle doesn't want us to disturb you," she explained. "I promised him to watch over you but otherwise keep away. But when you came outside and looked for him, I didn't want you to think that something was wrong when you received no answer." She fell silent, looking at her hands for a short moment. "And... I wanted to see you."

An amused smile pulled at my lips. I had to admit that it felt nice to hear her say that, but I couldn't help but tease her for a while more. "You can see me all the time," I remarked. "In your visions."

Alice looked at me almost scoldingly. "It's not the same."

It was silent, then. For a moment we simply gazed at each other, trying to get used to the idea of being in each other's company again. Trying to ignore the eight years that had distanced two best friends. But also trying to ackowledge them; there was no reason to pretend that those years weren't there. Because they were. I wasn't the same girl Alice had once met in the small, rainy town of Forks. At heart I was the same, but the years had stripped me away from many things that had been so typical for my character back then. I didn't mourn for those lost qualities that had once been part of me. Instead I rejoiced for those new pieces of myself that had gathered along the way.

I wondered if vampires went through those things, stages of inner growing. Or were they immune to the time that passed by, making them unchangeable, like the venom had made their bodies unable to alter and age? I wasn't ready to believe it. Even though time had no effect on their bodies, surely their minds and personalities developed with experiences. I thought about Carlisle, the flicker of sadness that passed in his eyes every now and then. And I knew that everything that had happened with Esme had affected him. Even though he was the same, kind-hearted man I had once met in the emergency room of the hospital, he couldn't have gone through something like that without changing at all.

I looked at Alice, the person who had once been like a sister to me. I wondered if we had to get to know each other all over again. And I wondered if it was worth it. Because I knew that one day she'd probably leave again, for the second time in my life.

I pushed the thought away, deciding to cross that bridge when I came to it. Alice was here now, and she had wanted to see me. It made me happy, I realized. It felt good to see her after all the time that had passed.

I gestured towards the living room with a reserved smile. "Come and sit down," I suggested. "And we'll talk."

Tossing the newspaper on the coffee table, I took my seat on the couch. Alice followed me with soundless steps, hesitantly sitting next to me. I saw her looking around in my small living room as if to take in every detail.

"You have a beautiful home," she said with her sing-song voice, turning to look at me.

"Thanks," I nodded. "It's a little cramped, but I like it." Studying the pale skin of her cheekbones, I tried to read her expressions. Again I wondered where Carlisle had left, and what took him so long to come back. Alice didn't look too worried, or then she was only feigning to be relaxed.

"So," I began, letting out a deep breath. "Would you tell me what's going on?"

Alice glanced at me. There was caution in her golden eyes. "What do you want to know?" she asked, the statement sounding somehow very open and unreserved. It surprised me.

I shrugged, wondering how extensive she had thought my question to be. "For starters, can you tell me where Carlisle is?"

"He's with Jasper," Alice answered, hesitating for a very short moment. "He found a trace a couple of miles away early yesterday morning."

"A trace?" I asked, suddenly worried. "A vampire's trace?"

Alice bit her lip, nodding. "They are following it and trying to find out who it was. I stayed behind to watch over you."

My heart rate sped up involuntarily, causing Alice to give me a calming look. "There's no reason to jump to conclusions," she stated. "It could be nothing, but they wanted to be sure about it."

"Whose trace could it be?" I asked. "And why haven't they come back already?"

Alice shook her head. "We don't know who it was. The scent was already pretty weak by the time Jasper accidentally stumbled upon it. Whoever it was, he could be very far away by now. And in any case, it doesn't mean that the trace has anything to do with you." She fell silent, her eyes suddenly going blank. I remembered that expression from my past; she was having a vision.

"They're returning," she sighed, running a hand over her face. I had never seen her do that.

"You seem pretty relieved," I noted. "Considering you were the one trying to calm _me_ down just now."

Alice gave me a wry smile. "I can never be too sure about anything until I see it happening," she explained, seemingly relaxing. She even leaned against the back of the couch, raising her feet on the cushions. I gave a curious glance at her bright yellow socks – I hadn't even noticed when she had taken her shoes off.

"You should know how the rest of us feel," I muttered. "Without the ability to see the future, that is."

Alice gave a short laugh – the sound was melodic. I had always loved the way they laughed.

I gave her a partly curious, partly worried glance. "Are they all right?" I asked. "Did they find anything?"

"They are fine," Alice answered, narrowing her eyes and frowning, probably replaying the vision she had just seen. "They caught up with the vampire they had tracked, but then I saw them letting him go. I suppose it was a false alarm. A nomad, possibly."

I had to wonder how many of their kind – nomads or otherwise – were strolling among humans without anyone even knowing about it. The thought made the shivers run up my spine.

"How are you, Bella?"

Alice's sudden question shook me from my thoughts. I turned to her, giving her a wry smile. "Good," I answered. "Except for the fact that apparently there's a dangerous predator out there thirsting for my blood. Again."

Alice answered with an ironic smile. "Things have the tendency to come full circle."

"Do you mean that I'm once again hanging out with you guys, or that I'm once again in trouble?"

"Maybe both," she answered. The smile fell from her lips suddenly, and she gazed down at her hands. "Bella," she began, seeming to struggle with her words. She took a deep, needless breath, raising her gaze from her hands to look at me again. "Bella, I can't stay here in front of you for another minute before having the chance to apologize. All this time that has passed... Day after day, year after year, I've been feeling more guilty. I can't decribe with words how awful it feels, but I know I deserve every bit of it."

I frowned. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Why should you feel guilty?"

She gave a joyless laugh. "_Why_? Because of everything that happened – because nothing was the same after we left Forks. I never wanted to leave you - I can't even imagine how much sorrow we caused you by abandoning you like that."

"Alice," I shook my head, turning on the couch to face her. "This is water way under the bridge. I'm not mad at you for what happened." She listened to me without a word, venom pooling in her golden eyes. I almost expected her to shed a tear.

"Of course I was sorrowful after you left," I admitted. "It took a long while to get over everything that happened in Forks. I wasn't mourning only for Edward, but for all of you. And it took time, but eventually I was able to forget. Well, maybe not forget – but accept." I reached out for the newspaper on the table, idly beginning to fiddle with it. "I've already talked to Carlisle about this. And I know that Edward lied to me in order to protect me."

"It's not a proper reason," Alice murmured. "If he hadn't been such a coward eight years ago, and if he had stayed instead of deciding to leave... you wouldn't be in danger right now as we speak. If he meant to protect you by doing what he did, he certainly didn't do his job properly."

Her words surpised me. I had never heard her talking about Edward in such fashion. They had always been so connected, closer to each other than their other siblings. It was slightly unsettling to hear her criticizing Edward for what had occurred. I suppose she was really upset with him.

"It's not that I feel the need to defend Edward or anything," I began, searching for words. "And I wish he had just been honest with me instead of taking advantage of the poor self-esteem I had back then. Maybe I could have convinced him to stay." I looked at Alice, rolling the newspaper into a cone while I pondered. "After Carlisle told me what the true motive behind his departure was, I've tried to understand him instead of feeling bitter."

Alice gazed at me, pulling her knees to her chest. "Have you succeeded?"

"Partly," I answered. "I'm not bitter anymore – that particular feeling left me a long time ago. But I guess... If it had been the other way around, I know I wouldn't have been able to do what he did to me. I never could have justified it for myself."

Alice nodded. "What he did was wrong. I'm still mad at him for what he decided. I don't know if he understood that it'd affect all of us. Not just him and you."

I frowned. "Is everything okay with you?"

Alice shrugged. "It's just been a long eight years. After we left Forks, we just began to drift apart. Edward went on his own way, and so did Rosalie and Emmett. It's nothing unusual since we don't live as a family all the time. It's normal for someone to leave for a couple of weeks or months, or even years to study and travel, for intance. But this time it felt somehow different. Everyone felt it, but no one spoke about it. No one dared to say it out loud." She lowered her chin on her knees, a haunted expression her face. "And then there was that thing with the Denalis... I'm sure Carlisle already told you about what happened with Esme."

I nodded. "Yeah," I whispered. "I still have trouble believing it."

It was silent for a while. The afternoon light began to fade away, and I rose from the couch to switch on the small table lamp under the window. I knew Alice needed no light, but I did. It was nice to be able to see the person who you were talking to.

"Carlisle seems to take it rather calmly," I stated as I sat back down. "Not that I could expect anything else from him."

"He's gotten used to it after all these years," Alice answered. "Well, maybe not used to it. But you know Carlisle. Of course he put Esme before himself in that situation. Did he tell you that he stayed for two years with Miguel to help him get over his bloodlust?"

I shot an astonished glance at her. "He told me he participated in teaching him," I stated.

Alice have a quiet laugh. "Of course he did. There's nothing new about it if he decided to belittle his own efforts."

I couldn't even imagine what it had been like for Carlisle. Not only he had been forced to realize that the woman he had loved nearly a century was destined to be with someone else, but that he had also been the key person to help that man – Miguel, or whatever his name was – to control his bloodlust. Two years... it was a long time to spent in the presence of someone who was indirectly responsible for causing a road to diverge. For causing Esme's and Carlisle's mutual road to become two instead of one.

I could only shake my head. Carlisle's compassion knew no boundaries. Admiration swelled in my heart suddenly. It was the warmth of his character that made it happen; I was simply in awe of him.

"Where are they now?" I asked on a whim. "Esme and that nomad... Miguel, was it?"

"They're currently in Alaska," Alice answered, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "When Esme heard about the vision I had of you, of course she wanted to help. But Miguel is reluctant to let her participate. He's afraid that something will happen to her." A wry smile curved Alice's lips, and she gave a small laugh. "Esme is furious with him."

I couldn't help but feel a little touched. When Carlisle had told me what had happened with Esme, she had momentarily felt like a totally different person to me. Distant, like she wasn't the woman I had once met and admired. But I suppose she was, after all. Caring and over-protective mother that she had always been.

"Speaking of the vision," Alice said, drawing me away from my thoughts. "I've been wondering if you could help me with it. I know Carlisle already asked you if there was someone who could have any intentions to harm you and you said no, but... any knowledge could be helpful at this point."

Frowning, I wondered how on earth I could be able to help her. "Could you describe the vision for me?" I asked. "Is it more clear than the first time you saw it?"

Alice seemed hesitant, closing her eyes. "It's a little sharper," she admitted. "But at the same time it's very obscure. Like something imperative has to happen first before the vision can be more clear - before it can come true. A decision has to be made." She opened her eyes, a dry and ironic snort escaping her lips. "Of course we shouldn't focus on how to make the vision come true. We have to find out how to _prevent_ it from coming true."

"We can't, unless we know which events will lead to it in the first place."

Alice nodded, sighing. I had rarely seen her so distressed.

"Carlisle gave me a rough description of the vision," I murmured, shifting on the couch and leaning my head against the cushions. "But could you describe it more accurately? Maybe I can recognize the place."

"I can't see the place," Alice stated. "I only see you lying down – on the floor, on the ground – I'm not sure. You're in pain and calling out for help."

"That's it?" I asked, quirking my brow. "Maybe I slipped on a banana peel and pulled a muscle in my back."

Alice glared at me, nudging my side with her elbow. "Very funny, Bella."

I had to laugh at her chagrined expression. It made me wonder what made the situation feel so... effortless, I guess. Alice had only spent a few moments with me, but already it felt like she had been here for longer than just a couple of minutes. It was slightly easier to talk to her than speak with Carlisle. Not that I was uncomfortable in Carlisle's presence, but my relationship with him had always been more or less remote. My time in Forks had been too short for me to have the chance to get to know him better.

It was a little different with Alice. After spending an endless amount of hours in her company during the time she had protected me from James, and after that helping me with my broken leg while I was healing, I had gotten to know her pretty well. And she had gotten to know me. And as I looked at her, I knew that these eight years hadn't changed her inner being that much. But I knew they had changed mine, and it made me wonder if those changes affected the close relationship we'd had in Forks. I found myself hoping that it wasn't the case.

"Aren't you at all spooked?" I heard her inquiring, apparently confused about my casual attitude towards the matter we were discussing.

I shrugged. "I guess a little," I admitted, thinking about the restless dreams that had been bothering me recently, of the creatures with red eyes. "I suppose I'm still not used to the idea. For years I've been living inside my little bubble of fulfillment, and all of a sudden there's a dangerous vampire thrown in the mix again. It seems unrealistic."

Alice gazed at me, trying to hide the sorrow in her eyes. "Did we break your little bubble by coming here?" she asked. "Should we have just handled this by ourselves without informing you at all'?"

I glanced at her, mulling over the feelings I had gone through when Carlisle had appeared to me on that night a couple of weeks ago. Of course I had been upset, even shocked, to see him – how could I not? Things you left behind should have stayed there, behind you. In the past. It had seemed nearly unfair that I had found them in front of me again, even after taking care of my own part what came to getting over things. I had spent months dealing with what happened with the Cullens. I had cried after every moment I had spent with them, mourned for their leaving and for the life that had been taken away from me. Every morning I had woken up to the knowledge that I'd never see Edward's face again, never make my way through the forest to see their beautiful house with the glass wall and the curving staircase. It had taken an endless amount of mornings until the day had come when I hadn't silently thought about everything I had lost, and finally accepted that I couldn't get those things back. And it had taken an endless amount of tears until the memories and feelings had become what they were now. Water under the bridge.

Pondering Alice's question, I wondered what if they had decided to keep her vision to themselves without warning me. They probably would've been able to solve the situation without telling me, and my life would have maintained its comfortable pattern. I'd have never known that they were somewhere nearby, secretly protecting me from the threat I wasn't even aware of. Secretly taking care of my safety while I was under the impression that they didn't care about it.

Would I have chosen ignorance over this? Would it have been better if Carlisle hadn't come to me that night and just stayed away? I wondered if my life – that little bubble of fulfillment I had created all by myself and maybe even found myself a little proud of – had been somehow more complete if they hadn't felt the need to interfere, like Carlisle always liked to put it.

Ignorance is bliss, someone had once said. But did I prefer it over the knowledge that the Cullens were back in my life? I had only seen Carlisle and Alice by now, but somehow I felt like the rest of them were near me as well. Like they were present even though they were physically very far away. It was strange. I wondered if that presence lingered even after they left. If they left. When they left. I didn't know which possibility I should prepare myself for.

I realized I had been quiet for a long time. Giving Alice a glance, I noticed she had interpreted my silence in the wrong way. She was fiddling with the hem of her black cashmere sweater, her golden eyes sorrowful.

"I think it's better that I know about the situation," I answered eventually, causing her to glance up.

"Really?" Alice asked, a flicker of something – hope, joy? – in the gold of her eyes. "Are you saying that if you had been able to choose, you'd have wanted to know instead of being kept in the dark?"

"I guess I'd have chosen to be aware," I admitted. "But I know it's not always about endless amounts of choices and then choosing what pleases you the most. Life is not like that."

A small smile curved Alice's lips. "Carlisle was right," she murmured so quietly I barely heard the words. "You're so different."

Quirking my brow in surprise, I looked her way. "What?" I asked. "Different how? And _Carlisle_ said that?"

She gave a small laugh, crossing her slender legs. "Well, you know," she tried to explain. "He said that the years had made you grow. That life had embraced you and you had embraced it back. Something like that."

I felt a blush creeping to my cheeks when I thought that Carlisle had described me that way. I felt oddly complacent about the words, but I didn't know why. Warmth began to spread through me, making tingles dance up my spine. I wondered about it, about that feeling; I wanted to know where it came from. But eventually, I tried to shake that feeling away, giving Alice a teasing smile and trying to ignore the redness of my cheeks.

Why was I blushing?

"What kind of a brat I must have been eight years ago," I chuckled, "if Carlisle said that I have _grown_?"

Alice laughed. "You weren't a brat," she disagreed. "Just very determined to know your place in this world."

I rolled my eyes. "And later I learned that there's no way anyone can find their place that easily."

Alice's eyes twinkled. "Have you found your place now?" she asked, curious. "Do you feel like it's here?"

I looked around in my apartment, thinking about the small bookstore I owned in the city. After living in Buffalo for years, I knew I probably had more good memories of this place than I had books on my shelves. And I had a lot of books.

"I love every moment here," I answered honestly, giving Alice a small smile. "So I suppose I've found it, then."

Alice smiled; there was understanding in it. Warmth.

The evening passed by with casual conversation. At some point Alice offered to leave in case I didn't want company, but I insisted her to stay, simply because her presence was so refreshing. She told me stories about their recent travels around the world with Jasper, and in exchange I told her about my own trips around the US. My stories weren't that exciting and numerous as Alice's, but she seemed to listen eagerly. I told her how Charlie had been furious with me after finding out that after college instead of getting a career and starting a family I was going to jump on the train and let it take me wherever it happened to be going.

The busy week and the lack of sleep took its toll eventually. Somewhere in the middle of Alice's story about how they had swum with Jasper from Brazil all the way to Africa, I found myself drifting off even though it was only eight in the evening. Before sleep overpowered me, I remembered idly wondering if vampires could swim faster than ships traveled.

Slumber whisked me away. I dreamed about Jasper competing against the Titanic. The huge ocean liner was about to crash against the continent of Africa, threatening to split it in two, but just in time Jasper appeared from the storming waves, pushing the ship back towards the ocean with all his might.

The waves beating against the shore created sounds. The water brushed against the white sand with a quiet whisper. The sound was calming, reminding me of home. I remembered walking on the beach with Phil, watching as my mother waded in the water a few dozen yards away ahead of us.

Then it wasn't just a memory anymore. It became real. The sand under my bare feet was still warm after the sunny day, but all around me the darkness began to creep closer. The silver luster of the moon began to dance on the waves. The sight took my breath away. Like a magical being, like a fairy in the summer night, my mother was standing in the ankle-deep water, holding the hem of her summer dress. Then she turned to me. A calming smile was playing on her lips. She had wrinkles around her eyes; they had been born of smiles and laughter. A hundred smiles is worth a million wrinkles, she had once said.

"Mom?" I heard myself asking, surprised to hear myself using the word I hadn't said in a long time. I couldn't even remember when Mom had become Renée. But she was still my mother, no matter what I called her. That had never changed.

I reached out with my hand as if to touch her. It was more like beckoning for her to come closer. But my mother stood still, a smile on her lips that I could only describe as calming.

Why would she feel the need to calm me?

"You must choose," she said suddenly. Her voice was comforting, guiding. "But before you choose, you have to know what is right for you." Her blue eyes watched me, searching my brown ones.

"I don't know what is right," I heard myself saying, though I didn't even know what I was talking about. Or what she was talking about, for that matter. "I don't want to choose."

She only smiled. There was something knowing about that smile – something trusting. Another wave came from the ocean, slowly and serenely. It glided towards the shore without a sound, gently caressing my mother's ankles. I watched as the water receded again, and I knew that the place where my mother had stood would be empty as the wave returned to where it belonged.

I only heard the quiet whisper of wind as the moon disappeared, leaving me in alone the dark. The sand under the soles of my feet was cooler, the warmth of the sun disappearing.

* * *

**AN: **I was always intrigued about the way Stephenie Meyer used dreams in the Twilight series to bring up difficult topics, such as Edward's vampirism, Jacob being a werewolf, Bella's pregnancy etc. I think it's a cunning way to sneak thoughts and ideas into both readers' and characters' heads ;)

I want to thank you immensely for your reviews, they are very much appreciated! I want you to know that I read every single one of them, and they totally make my day. I have a few chapters written on my computer and ready to be edited, and I'm hoping that my life will give me a break in the near future and allows me to write more, because I haven't been able to write nearly enough as I would have liked.

I hope you keep reading and enjoying the story!


	7. Nothing Less Of A Blessing

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**"When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place."**_

\- C.S. Lewis -

* * *

**Nothing Less Of A Blessing**

As I sat down behind the counter, I submitted to the urge to tilt my head from side to side and stretch my neck. Then I let out a long breath, quickly arranging a polite expression on my face as a customer turned to say goodbye before exiting the store. After thanking her and welcoming her back, I waited until the door slipped closed before giving myself the permission to yawn.

This was why sleeping on the couch should've been forbidden by law. You only managed to get your muscles in knots, and then you woke up, dazed and dog-tired, feeling like you hadn't slept in a week. Not even sleeping one full night in my own bed had managed to cure the ache in my neck.

I idly wondered if Alice's visit the day before yesterday had been just a dream. Maybe I had fallen asleep right after coming home from work on Saturday and my muddled brain had simply made her up. Although, the memory of the conversation we'd had seemed pretty rational. Usually dream chats didn't sound that sane. At least mine didn't.

I shook my head, deciding that it couldn't have been just a dream. When I had woken up from the couch yesterday morning, there had been a blanket draped over me. And I didn't even remember glancing at one while I had still been conscious. Alice had been there – I was sure of it. It hadn't been my imagination.

I idly wondered why she had decided to leave without informing me, but then I thought she probably hadn't wanted to wake me. Or maybe something urgent had come up – what if something had happened? What if Jasper and Carlisle hadn't come back like Alice had seen happening? I hadn't caught a glimpse of anyone yesterday, and needless to say, it made me concerned.

I tried not worry and to jump to conclusions, and attempted to find something else to think about. The late Monday afternoon was quiet, and there were no customers to keep me busy. I spent an hour taking care of the bookkeeping and arranging a few book orders, and also checking some publishers' seasonal lists for any new and interesting titles. I took a moment to praise the internet – without it, it'd be a lot more difficult to keep the selection of the store interesting enough.

The sound of the small bell jingling above the door made me raise my gaze from the laptop screen. The sound always caused a certain reaction in me. Or maybe it was a reflex, more likely: get up if you happen to be sitting, smile politely and greet the customer. It was never good for a salesperson if a customer happened to see you sitting down and looking disinterested. Not even when the muscles of your neck protested every movement and your mind was drifting off to a group of vampires who could possibly be in trouble.

But this time, the person entering the store caused that usual reflex to disappear. The perky greeting died on my lips as I quirked my brow in surprise.

Carlisle stepped inside with a reserved smile. He closed the door behind him, giving a quick glance at place he had stepped into before looking at me again.

"Hi," I greeted, standing up and suddenly feeling very relieved to see him alive and well. I had worried about him more than I liked to admit. I felt myself relaxing and let out a deep breath I had apparently been holding without even realizing it. As the sense of alleviation swept over me and stole the words that had been on my lips only a moment earlier, I suddenly realized that I shouldn't be feeling this relieved. That I shouldn't be this happy to see him again.

Shaking myself from the thought, I gave him a friendly smile and hoped he hadn't noticed how his appearance had affected me. "I thought you'd never venture to come by here even though I asked," I stated.

Carlisle gave me a small smile, his gaze sweeping over the high bookshelves dominating the space. "Of course I had to come and see the place you're so fond of," he murmured softly, sounding slightly amused. "And I was curious to see if it was anything I imagined it to be."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

He stepped closer to the counter, smiling. "It certainly is," he stated, still looking around him. I studied the space, trying to see it from his perspective. Wanting to see it like I had stepped inside for the very first time.

The floors were made of dark wood, matching with the towering shelves that circled the walls. In addition to them, there were several more shelves evenly situated around the space. The walls were the color of wine red. Someone might say the color made the store appear even smaller, but it didn't really bother me. I liked the warm atmosphere it created.

I had once planned to rearrange the shelves to get some extra space and situate a couch or two in one of the corners. It'd add a nice touch to the store, making the customers more comfortable and maybe even tempting them to stay for a while longer. I had never gotten around to do what I had planned, but I promised myself that someday I would.

"This is wonderful," I heard Carlisle praising, pulling me from my thoughts. He glanced around the store one more time before taking a couple of steps closer to me and stopping on the other side of the counter. "It's very you," he complimented.

I shrugged, but couldn't help but smile. "The previous owner should get all the credit," I admitted. "She did all the hard work to make this place what it is now."

"But you keep it living," Carlisle pointed out. "You ensure it keeps existing. That is no less important."

Blushing under his praise, I avoided his golden eyes. Wondering why his gaze made me so flustered, I nodded toward the chair on the other side of the counter to get something to say. "Sit down," I suggested, clearing my throat.

The late afternoon passed by as it had so far – quietly. No one interrupted us as I sat down opposite of Carlisle, inquiring what had happened during the weekend and if they had found anything out with Jasper.

"It was a false alarm," Carlisle explained. "We returned yesterday, but decided to spend a couple of hours circling around the city to make sure we hadn't missed anything. We cannot be too careful, especially after this."

I frowned at his last words, idly beginning to play with the pen on the counter. "But Alice told me it was only a nomad's trace Jasper came across," I stated. "Or is there something else she didn't tell me?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No. It was a nomad. But what I meant was that we have to pay more attention from now on. That nomad could have easily been someone else with ill intentions, and if he had managed to get too close..." A shadow of worry passed in his golden eyes. For some reason it almost startled me. I had rarely seen Carlisle looking so somber.

"I'm sure you'd have known," I assured him, not wanting to see him so distressed. "I know you wouldn't have let anything happen." For some reason it felt important that he knew I trusted them, trusted him. Because I did. Maybe that was the reason why I had taken the situation so calmly all this time. Because I knew I was safe. Because I knew all the worry I felt was directed towards them, their safety. Not mine.

We sat in silence for a while. Outside the store, the late afternoon was turning into an evening, the darkness swallowing the grey daylight. I began to tidy up, straightening the books on the shelves and otherwise making sure that everything was in order for tomorrow.

"Alice told me to say hello," Carlisle stated suddenly, giving me a curious look. "I heard she spent a couple of hours with you when we were gone with Jasper."

"She did," I answered, locking up the cash register and putting the key into my pocket. Quirking my brow at him, I walked to the door and switched the sign on the door from open to closed. "I was a bit surprised to see her at first. But it was really nice to talk to her after such a long time."

"It's good to hear," Carlisle said, giving me a smile that was somewhat reserved. He wetted his lips quickly, rising up from the chair by the counter. "I hope her sudden appearance didn't trouble you. I should have known she couldn't resist the temptation to talk to you once there was no one to keep an eye on her. Before I left with Jasper, I suggested that she should give you space, just in case."

His words caused me to remember what Alice had said when she had decided to emerge from her hiding.

"_I wasn't even supposed to show myself to you,_" she had told me. _"Let alone have a conversation with you."_

Shaking the memory away, I gave Carlisle a wry smile. "Just in case, huh?" I asked, trying to sound casual. I walked to the backroom to get my coat, shrugging it on leisurely. "Sometimes I can't help but feel like I have a leper or something," I heard myself murmuring.

Carlisle frowned, apparently trying to figure out what he had said wrong. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking suddenly regretful. "Have I offended you?"

"No, it's just that..." I shook my head, searching for words and wondering if I should be just honest with him. "I still can't figure out what's going on with you guys," I stated. "Do you feel the need to give me space because you're afraid that you'll disturb my life or because I might disturb yours?"

Carlisle shook his head, taking two steps closer. He reached out to take my hand in his cold one, an apologetic expression on his face. "Bella, I'm terribly sorry. I realize how my words must have sounded to you." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, not letting go. "I'm only very uncertain about how you're taking the situation. That is why I attempt to make sure you're comfortable with it. And if it means that we have to keep our distance, that is what we will do. But only if you prefer it."

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Because I didn't know what I prefered – and I certainly couldn't make a decision like this because I was as uncertain about everything as he was. I still didn't know how _they_ felt about the situation. When it came to me, only Alice had expressed her feelings clearly enough. And while Carlisle had been more present during the past couple of weeks than anyone else, he was still more or less reserved in my company.

I knew he wasn't the one to blame for my inner uncertainty; I was the one who didn't dare to open my mouth and ask straightforward what his feelings were when it came to this matter. I was too much of a coward to do that just yet.

"I'm still getting used to the situation," I admitted, breaking the silence and meeting Carlisle's golden eyes. "But I know that I feel fine about you being here, as I've said before. And there's no reason for you to keep your distance if you don't want to. You don't have to tiptoe around me just because you're not sure whether or not I want you here. It's very considerate of you to give me space, but I assure it's unnecessary."

Carlisle nodded. He gave me a smile that was mostly relieved, and then he let my hand slip from his cold grasp. I felt the loss immediately, reeling inwardly as the surface of his skin left mine. I wondered what caused the strange sensation, and I didn't know if I should have felt confused or embarrased by it.

As I began to put out the lights and go over my mental checklist, wondering if I had forgotten to do something, I suddenly realized that most of the reasons for my insecurity lied within the uncertainty of the future. Because if I knew exactly what would happen tomorrow, next week, next month or whenever the situation behind Alice's vision got solved, I knew I could be more at ease. I simply didn't know what to prepare myself for. If I knowingly let the Cullens back in my life, would I get attached to them again? And once their job was done and they were free to leave without fearing that I might kick the bucket, could I watch them leaving without being at all sad?

I knew I was in a different place than I was eight years ago. I was the same person, but so very different. I had a different life, different opinions, a different stance towards life. But did those differences make me any stronger or wiser? And more importantly; did those differences make it easier to say goodbye and watch people leaving, just when you had get used to the idea that they were back?

_Don't get used to it, then,_ I told myself. _Don't get attached. Enjoy the few moments they spend with you and be prepared for the chance they might leave. Play it safe._

The advice I gave myself didn't sound like me at all. Playing it safe was the same thing as not daring to leave the house because you might break your leg or get hit by a bus. Playing it safe was the same thing as holding back. It wasn't living. It wasn't something I could imagine myself doing. And it certainly wasn't something I _wanted_ to do.

"Is everything all right?"

I snapped from my reverie, realizing that my hand was frozen upon the light switch. Carlisle was observing me, a small frown furrowing his brow.

"Yeah," I answered, switching the last light off and deciding that the matter would come up later once the proper time presented itself. Trying not to stress myself out, I gave myself a new advice, something that was more or less a cliché but also very appropriate for every situation.

_Carpe diem. Seize the day. Enjoy the present. _

_Whatever._

* * *

Carlisle walked me to my apartment. After inviting him inside, I inquired if anything else had come up during the weekend besides the nomad who had proven to be a false alarm.

He shook his head, sitting down on the couch next to me. "Nothing crucial," he answered as I had expected. I searched his face, trying to see any signs of frustration, but mostly he just seemed pondering. He hesitated for a moment before looking my way, studying my expression as if to find out what I was thinking.

"Edward is getting impatient," he revealed. I quirked my brow at his words, but otherwise showed no reaction. Hearing Edward's name caused only puzzlement in me nowdays, and I didn't really know what else to feel anymore. Now when I knew that he had lied to me eight years ago in order to protect me, I actually found myself a little irritated by his actions. But beyond the occasional irritation, I only felt oddly neutral about him. It was a nice change after the emotional scale of feelings I had once gone through, starting from the moment I had met him. And ending somewhere around the time when I had packed my bags and stubbornly left to conquer the world.

"Why is he impatient?" I asked.

Carlisle pondered for a moment, a small frown furrowing his brow. "He's frustrated because their search for Victoria is fruitless," he explained. "He feels the need to find something crucial to do instead of simply waiting for something to happen."

"But there's not much to do," I pointed out. "If it's not Victoria who's after me, and if your theory about the Volturi is as implausible as you're suspecting, then there's not much to go on."

Carlisle nodded. "It's true," he stated, glancing at the floor.

"What is he thinking, then?" I asked. "Does Edward have another theory about the situation?"

He shook his head. "There was a moment when he planned to travel to Italy to see the Volturi," he began to explain. His tone was neutral, but somehow I knew that he had possibly disagreed with Edward's plan rather strongly. Maybe it was the look in his eyes that caused me to believe that. There was almost something disapproving in him.

I had to wonder when I had learned to read him so well. Carlisle wasn't the most distant person I had met during my life, but that didn't mean he wasn't at all reserved. I remembered all of the Cullens to be that way, at least a little. I suppose they had to, since living among humans demanded at least a certain amount of secrecy and detachment from them. But after these short weeks I had spent in Carlisle's presence, I had a feeling I was able to read his expressions and know what he was feeling. At times, it nearly felt like we were on the same level - or frequency, more likely. I realized I had never felt that way with Edward. He had always struggled to know what I was thinking and feeling because he hadn't been able to read my mind. And I had always struggled to believe that he had cared about me, trying to convince myself that he indeed had wanted to be with me. For some reason I had felt like an inferior to him, not able to understand how he could have possibly been interested in a person like me. He, who was so extraordinary. And I, so ordinary and plain that I had believed to be no match for him because of that.

My eyes studied Carlisle's form next to me. I studied his posture, his face and his eyes. His eyes, in particular. There was still something disapproving in them as he thought about his earlier words. Then the look in their golden depths became pondering, almost regretful. Again I wondered if there had been a disagreement between him and Edward, a disagreement he was now regretting. There was something wrong about the notion, and I hoped that their friendship that had lasted for decades hadn't faltered because of the situation. But I was pretty sure it hadn't; Carlisle wouldn't have let it happen. Conflicts were something he avoided as well as he was able, and even if it someday came to disagreement, there would be nothing but calm and wisdom about the way he handled it.

He suddenly sensed my studying eyes, turning to me when I didn't say anything. I suddenly realized we were sitting awfully close to each other, only mere inches between us. I felt the coolness of his body even though we weren't touching. I wondered if he felt the warmth leaving my body as I felt the coolness leaving his. The gold of his eyes, bright like the sunset playing on the waves of the ocean, was suddenly all I was able to see. I felt crippled, like all the strength had left my body.

I turned away, wondering why his eyes had the tendency to immobilize me like that. It wasn't right that they did. I felt like I was out of step, struggling to find the balance I had lost. Why had I lost it? Where had it gone?

I swallowed, replaying his earlier words in my mind and trying to find the words that had fled from me. "Why would seeing the Volturi solve the situation?" I asked, venturing to glance at him. "What exactly did Edward have in his mind?"

Carlisle wetted his lips, looking at the darknening evening outside the window. He searched the words for a while, suddenly looking like he was trying to regain his focus. "Edward suggested that in case the Volturi are behind the vision Alice had of you," he began, looking my way again, "we should try to reason with them. Try to convince them about the fact that your knowledge of us doesn't threaten them in any way. He hopes they'd make an exception for you and spare your life."

"Do they make exceptions?" I asked, confused. I had thought the Volturi to be rather strict about everything.

"Rarely," Carlisle answered. "Except when it works for their own benefit. You're are not the only human who is aware of vampires," he admitted. "The Volturi recruit humans from time to time, utilizing them to maintain their facade. They work as secretaries and receptionists – servants. But I think they are more like commodities to the Volturi - easily to be replaced."

"So these human servants know about vampires?" I asked to make sure I had understood. "They know what the Volturi really are?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes. But they keep quiet about it – not that they'd have a choice – and usually they are hopeful of becoming vampires themselves." He paused, giving me a wary glance. "But that wish is often futile. Like I said, the Volturi see them as commodities. Something to get rid of after they have filled their purpose."

I nodded, understanding. Trying to fight off the images of drained bodies and vampires with bright red eyes, I looked at Carlisle again, studying his expression.

"While I can understand Edward's frustration, I think his suggestion is too risky," he continued. "It would be foolish of us to bring your existence to their knowledge when we cannot be even sure whether or not they know about you yet. Whether or not they have anything to do with Alice's vision."

"Maybe Edward wanted to survey their intentions inconspicuously," I suggested. "Without revealing the whole situation to them right away."

Carlisle shook his head. "While that might work with anyone else, it could never work with the Volturi," he stated. "They have the means to find out exactly what Edward would have in his mind - quite literally. The Volturi possess numerous vampires with extraordinary skills, and one of the leaders happens to hold a gift that is rather effective when it comes to retrieving information," he explained.

I quirked my brow. "What kind of a gift?"

"It is similar to Edward's, but only much more thorough," Carlisle answered. "One of the three leaders – Aro is his name – can learn every thought a person has had during their entire lifetime. Only by the touch of his hand, he reads every thought that has passed through that person's mind. After that he knows you as well as he knows himself. There's no way to deceive him – it'd be foolish to even fathom the thought."

"That's freaky," I murmured, chills running up my spine. The idea of someone to be able to read every thought that's gone through my mind was slightly unsettling.

Carlisle nodded. "That is why I'm not willing to consider Edward's suggestion. The risk is too high. "

Nodding, I couldn't help but agree. I knew that Edward's action wouldn't only risk my life, but the Cullens' lives as well. I didn't want them to be punished because of me, and from everything I had heard of the Volturi, I figured the Cullens would get their share as well for breaking the rules.

"Do you still believe it's implausible that the Volturi even know about me?" I asked, suddenly very worried about everything.

"I do," Carlisle answered. "I believe they would have appeared by now if they knew about you. But I suppose we cannot make assumptions. As unlikely as it is for them to be behind this, I am still prepared for the possibility, as small as it is."

An involuntary shudder rippled through me. I tried to hide it, but of course Carlisle noticed it.

"When I say that I'm prepared for the possibility," he explained, "I mean that I'm prepared to do everything to prevent you from getting in the middle of it. You have done nothing wrong, and I would do anything to convince them about it. You don't have to be afraid, Bella."

"I'm not afraid for myself," I said. "Because even if you manage to convince them about my so called innocence, you'll only doom yourselves by doing that. What if they decide to punish _you_ for letting me find out about you and not getting rid of me?" I looked into his golden eyes, trying to will him to understand how worried I was for their safety.

"This is all just speculation," Carlisle reminded, without a doubt trying to reassure me. "Our theory about the Volturi is no more than that – only a theory. You shouldn't concern yourself with it." A tender smile rose to his lips. "And do not worry about our safety, Bella. Our intention is to protect you, not vice versa." He lifted his hand to touch my chin with his thumb. The touch was soft, tender. The feel of his cool skin against my warm one made me shiver. I tried to tell myself it was because of the cold, but my pounding heart was more difficult to convince.

It was silly to hope he didn't hear it when my heart quickened its pace, but of course he did. I felt suddenly very self-conscious, quickly turning away from his golden eyes.

Carlisle's touch left my skin. I was torn between disappointment and relief, trying to shake both feelings away. Clearing my throat, I tried to figure out something to say. The air around us was suddenly more dense, rippling like heat waves above the ground the sun had warmed.

"How is your hand?" I heard him asking quietly, forcing my thoughts to something else. It took a moment before I remembered what he was talking about. Glancing at the palm of my right hand, I showed it to him quickly.

"It's fine," I answered as he leaned closer to study the healing scratches. "They're already scabbing."

Carlisle nodded, his gaze sweeping over my upper arm nearly involuntarily. The short sleeves of my t-shirt allowed him to see the long scar near the bend of my elbow. I saw him studying the fair skin that was slightly uneven where the glass had cut it on the night of my eighteenth birthday.

"I should go easier on my right arm from now on," I jested. "It's gone through some rough times over the years."

Carlisle tore his gaze from the healed wound he had once stitched closed, giving me a rueful smile. I wondered where his mind was now. Was he thinking about that night when everything had changed? When all of our lives had taken a sudden turn only because of the tiny papercut? It was ironic that a small occurence like that could have such a huge impact on our lives. And I had to wonder; what if my clumsiness had abandoned me for that one short second and prevented the innocent piece of paper from slicing my finger? Where would I be now? Would I still be here? Would something else had happened later to make Edward decide that it was harmul for me to be in their presence?

I couldn't know. And I realized that I didn't even want to. What ifs were useless, and mulling over them didn't make you any wiser. Because if there was such a thing as fate, I wanted to believe there was no way to change the course of it once you were already on your way. What ifs were therefore invalid, only drops of water in the ocean or grains of sand in the desert. They drowed, lost and forgotten, in everything else that was more important.

Because what ifs weren't lost opportunities, lost possibilities you should try to possess. They were only nonexistent moments that had never been born. Scattered fractions of time you left behind when life went on.

The tips of my fingers caressed the white scar on my arm. I raised my eyes to see Carlisle, noticing that he was watching me. A question entered my mind, something I had wanted to ask for a while now. Or it wasn't a question, per se. Only general wondering.

"I never had the chance to know how that night affected Jasper," I murmured, watching his reaction. "I hope he doesn't have ill feelings after what happened."

Carlisle's smile was partly amused, but mostly reassuring. "I'm sure he has hoped for the very same thing – that you don't have any ill feelings," he said softly. "He's ashamed because of his actions, and still fears that his attack took away the trust you had in us."

"Why would it have?" I asked, frowning.

"Because of what we are," Carlisle answered. "His control slipped only for a very short moment, and it could have cost you dearly. What happened was – "

" – only natural for him," I stated, gently cutting him off. "We all act on our instincts. That's what Jasper did. If there had been any way for him to stop himself, he would have. I know it. There was nothing intentional about his action."

Carlisle nodded. "I agree that he shouldn't be too hard on himself," he said. "But I am sorrowful that you ended up injured. It shouldn't have happened."

"It was an accident," I stated firmly. "And besides, it shouldn't be a surprise for either of us that I managed to make a dangerous object out of a small piece of paper. Everything around me, especially the things I handle, should be padded. It'd be safer for everyone."

Carlisle chuckled at my words, breaking the tension the coversation had caused. I smiled back at him, lifting my feet from the floor and bending my legs under me. Hesitating, I met his gaze. "Could you tell Jasper that there's nothing to worry about?" I asked. "And that I'm sorry about what happened? I hate to think that he's still regretful of something he couldn't help."

Carlisle's eyes were slightly wary as he answered. "Perhaps you can tell him yourself," he suggested cautiously. "I'm sure it'd mean a lot to him to hear this from you."

I quirked my brow at his suggestion, thinking about the possibilty to see Jasper. The thought wasn't that unpleasant – why would it be? It had been such a long time since I had seen him, and since he was watching over me with Alice and Carlisle, it was kind of inevitable that I'd bump into him sooner or later.

Carlisle noticed my momentary hesitation and apparently misread it because he began to retract his words. "I had no intention to pressure you," he apologized. "If you're not comfortable with – "

"No, it's okay," I cut him off softly and gave him a swift smile. "It'd be nice to see him. Of course I'm not against it."

Carlisle relaxed visibly. He opened his mouth to say something, but he hesitated and eventually settled for smiling.

The evening passed by with my normal rituals. I made myself tea and something to eat while I went through some of the paperwork I hadn't managed to finish during the afternoon. Carlisle delved into a book he had found from my small library, and almost involuntarily my gaze creeped towards him every now and then. I watched the way his golden eyes moved across the pages and took in every word printed on the paper. His pace seemed unhurried which seemed uncommon for vampires. I had seen Edward reading something a couple of times, and usually only a second or two had passed when he had been finished. I wondered why Carlisle chose to read slowly – maybe he enjoyed it. Somehow it fit his nature in many ways to do something as simple as to read like humans.

I watched him behind my tea mug, noting how the dim lighting of the living room created shadows on his face. The color of his hair varied between different tones of gold, very similar to the color of his eyes. He looked like an angel.

Suddenly he looked up from the book, without a doubt sensing my gaze. I glanced back at the papers scattered on the counter, embarrassed that he had caught me watching him. Clearing my throat, I sipped my tea and shyly peeked at him to see his expression.

He was watching me with a small smile on his face. Or not exactly. His lips weren't smiling, not visibly. But his eyes were. I heard him clearing his throat quietly, and then he turned the page of the book he was holding.

"How are your parents?" he asked, catching me off guard again. The question was casual and friendly, but for some reason it left me speechless. After all these few weeks we had spent in each other's company the question shouldn't have sounded so weird. But truthfully, we had rarely talked about anything personal. There had been that conversation about Esme and later about Adrian, but apart from those short discussions we hadn't talked about anything too private.

"They're good," I answered after getting over my surprise. I actually found myself pleased that he cared enough to ask. "Charlie could have retired a while ago but he detested the very idea of it," I chuckled. "He'd rather cut his arm off than stop working."

Carlisle smiled. "I can undertand that feeling very well," he said. "How about your mother? How's she been?"

"Really good. She still lives in Florida with Phil," I answered. "She keeps pelting me with phone calls every now and then, interrogating me why I haven't visited." I shrugged, wondering how long it'd take for her to get used to the idea of me not living home anymore. It had been years since I had moved out, and she still hadn't gotten over it. I smiled fondly at the thought of my mother, knowing that Phil would make sure that the bills would get paid and there was always something to eat in the fridge.

The memory of my mother's face caused a strange feeling to come over me. I felt like I had forgotten something important. I tried to grasp at the strange sensation to find out what it was about, but I couldn't quite manage to do it. I shook my head, preparing to say something else to Carlisle when suddenly a voice, subdued by hours and wakefulness, reached my ears.

"_You must choose."_ Renée's eyes were blue like the light of the moon. I remembered her standing in the ankle-deep water, holding the hem of her summer dress with her hands to prevent it from getting wet. I remembered the guidance in her voice; the comfort. _"But before you choose, you have to know what is right for you._"

"_I don't know what is right," _I had answered. _"I don't want to choose."_

The flimsy memory of the dream slipped away. I blinked, wondering the reason behind it. I wondered if I had even remembered the dream if Carlisle hadn't asked about my mother. Sipping my tea, I realized the drink was getting cold.

I heard Carlisle asking if everything was alright. Raising my eyes from the counter, I saw him looking at me with a small frown on his face.

"I'm fine," I answered, brushing my hand through the air in a calming manner. "It's just a dream I had. It pesters me."

I could see that he was tempted to ask what the dream had been about, but he hesitated, apparently wondering if it was inappropriate to pry. My fingers began to shove the papers on the counter into a pile, and I wondered what I should answer in case he did decide to ask. There was something strange about the dream, and I knew that I needed to understand it myself before telling anyone about it. And besides, it was just a dream – usually they didn't make sense. Therefore there was no reason to get into a tizzy.

I decided to take a shower, and for once Carlisle didn't offer to leave in the fear of making me uncomfortable, like he had done several times before. I guess he was getting used to spending so much time at my apartment. I caught myself smiling at the sight of him sitting on my small couch, his eyes devouring the book he was reading. I recognized that quiet fervor in his gaze, that endless thirst for words. I had always thought to be somehow abnormal for being able to dive into the world the book created and feeling the need to stay there for hours. But I suppose I wasn't that abnormal – at least Carlisle seemed to share that particular quality with me.

Smiling, I made my way out of the living room, closing the bathroom door quietly behind me.

* * *

Closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath, I enjoyed the smell of crisp air in my lungs. The grey light of the afternoon was rapidly disappearing and painting the scenery with different tones of black and brown. I reached out to pick up a fallen maple leaf from the ground, playing with it in my fingers. Not able to resist the temptation, I brought it close to my nose and drew in the earthy scent.

The slender creature walking beside me gave me a long look. She looked at me like I had grown a second head or something.

"What?" I asked. "It smells good."

Alice shook her head, not able to resist a smile. I held out the maple leaf for her, causing her to raise her hand, declining. "I believe you," she laughed. "I've just always thought you're the kind of a person who likes to smell things like flowers and freshly-cut grass... well, you know – _summery_ things."

I shrugged, rolling the leaf between my thumb and forefinger, making it twirl. "I have nothing against flowers and freshly-cut grass," I stated. "I guess I'm just not a summer person like I once used to."

Alice glanced at me, a curious expression on her face. "That's not the only thing that has changed."

I quirked my brow at her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, taking a few quicker steps on the paved road; they looked like dance moves even though she was only walking. "Nothing particular," she answered. "It's just that you've changed to much. I look at you, listen the way you speak, and at times I can hardly recognize you. But at the same time you are the same Bella I once got to know all those years ago. It a strange conflict."

"Strange in a bad way?"

"No." Alice slowed her steps, suddenly grasping my hand. There was mischief in her eyes; elation. "In a very good way."

I smiled at her, not able to deny that her company was something I had found myself missing.

We walked in silence, watching as the gray light of the late afternoon escaped, causing the evening to take over. I pulled up the collars of my coat to shield my throat, trying to keep the cold wind outside.

"How far do you want to go?" I heard Alice asking. She had agreed to accompany me for a walk after I had gotten home from work a couple of hours ago. She had told me that Jasper had asked Carlisle to join him on a hunting trip, and he had agreed. I hadn't seen him at all today – he had left before I woke up this morning. I was already very accustomed to his habit to stay overnight and spend the quiet hours by reading my books, at the same time observing his surroundings and being prepared for any intruder we were still waiting to appear.

That unknown intruder was still a no show. I knew I should have been relieved and even happy to know that the situation remained uneventful, but truthfully I was getting a bit worried. It felt like a calm before the storm.

But I tried not to get all flustered about the feeling, because I really had no reason to. Truthfully, not many things had changed in my life during the past few weeks. For some reason I had expected them to change a lot more now when the Cullens were back - I didn't know why. But the days had passed by in a blur, moments tranforming into hours and hours transforming into days. The fall was way underway now, bringing the feel of nearing winter. The weather turned colder, the nights grew darker. My life was still a comfortable pattern of work, customers and books, and somehow, almost inconspiciously, Carlisle and Alice had eased their way into that pattern. I had become very accustomed to their company during the late evenings. Usually it was just Carlisle keeping me company and watching over me. Alice had formed the habit of walking me home from the store in the afternoon, but after that she usually left, saying that Jasper was waiting for her.

"Let's just circle around the park, if that's okay," I suggested, answering Alice's earlier question. "That's what Carlisle and I do every now and then." Walking around the park always managed to set my mind at ease. There was simply something calming about the place.

"Yes. I'm aware of that," Alice stated, a smile in her voice. I turned to give her a curious frown, but she changed the subject so abruptly that I forgot her earlier comment.

"Esme called yesterday," she informed, giving a glance at the nearing man who was walking a dog a couple of paces away. The dog froze and we passed them by, and I could swear how it narrowed its golden brown eyes. I had always wondered if animals sensed the abnormality in the Cullens' presence. At least this dog seemed to know that Alice wasn't a normal person. I heard a loud growl behind us and glanced over my shoulder to see the owner of the dog trying to calm his pet down.

Alice shrugged, otherwise paying no attention to the dog.

"How is Esme?" I asked, remembering her earlier words.

"Good," Alice answered. "A bit frustrated, maybe. She told me to say hi to you – she's still pretty miffed about not getting to participate in our little project. Miguel is adamant not to let her leave Alaska."

"Well, there's doesn't seem to be much to participate in," I noted. "You know..." Hesitating, I glanced at her. "Speaking about Esme. I have to admit that for a moment I saw her differently after hearing what happend between her and Carlisle. She seemed like a foreign person to me." I watched Alice's reaction, wondering if my straight words offended her. Esme was like a mother to her in many ways.

She pondered what I had said, staying silent for a while. "I can see why you felt how you did," she answered. "I was pretty stunned as well when I had the vision of her meeting Miguel. And I knew what was going to happen. I feel a little guilty for not being able to give Carlisle a warning when they left to see the Denalis on that day. We were traveling with Jasper at the time, and before we managed to get anywhere near the civilization or even _phones_, it was already too late."

"I don't think it would've made a difference," I mused. "I'm sure they'd have left to help the Denalis anyway. Especially Carlisle, despite everything."

Alice nodded, agreeing. I gave her a curious glance, not able to resist the urge to ask.

"Do they get along?" I queried. "Carlisle and Miguel?"

Alice laughed. "Show me one person Carlisle wouldn't get along with," she smiled. "Of course they do. And Miguel is pretty nice once you get to know him. Although, I have to admit that all of us except for Carlisle scowled at him at the beginning – especially Rosalie – but eventually we accepted what had happened. Many things changed after Esme and Miguel became mates, but I guess that's how life is. Things change. And sometimes the unexpected happens."

"The whole concept still feels strange to me," I admitted, trying to understand the complicated relationships between vampires.

"What is it that confuses you?"

Shrugging, I tried to put my thoughts to words. "This whole thing, I guess. Carlisle already explained to me why finding a mate is so significant for vampires. But I guess it's the lack of control over the situation that puzzles me. I mean... you're married to someone for several decades, and only one glance – one simple second – can suddenly change that. There's almost something cruel about it."

There was patience in Alice's eyes; understanding. "What do you think has changed between Carlisle and Esme?"

I opened my mouth to answer, trying to remember the way Carlisle had put it.

"I suppose nothing important has changed between them," I mused. "Carlisle said that the love they feel for each other hasn't gone anywhere. That it has just changed into friendship."

Alice nodded. "Exactly. They may not be married and in love the way they used to be, but they are still family like they always were. They still love each other, but it's the kind of love you feel towards a very dear friend."

I nodded, understanding what she was saying. But I still wondered if it really was as simple as she made it sound. Or as _painless_ as she made it sound.

"I couldn't go through something like that completely unscathed," I heard myself murmuring, idly thinking about Edward and how hard it had been to get over him. I had known him only a few months, but Carlisle had been with Esme for decades.

"You're worried about him," Alice stated, causing me to give her a surprised glance. "Carlisle."

"What? No, not exactly," I mumbled, at the same time wondering if I was. And was it even my place to be worried about him? "I'm just dumbstruck. I can't understand how he can be so calm about it."

"It happened many years ago. He's had a lot of time to accept what happened. And well, you know, he's always so _Carlisle _about everything," Alice remarked with a small laugh. "Although, I can't blame you for worrying. The rest of us acted just like you after Miguel and Esme mated. After Carlisle returned home from Alaska months later once Miguel had learned to control himself, we kept hovering over him for a long time. I guess it wasn't just him who was sad – we were all sad as well. Carlisle had left together with Esme, not knowing that he'd return alone." Her words floated in the air between us, and for a moment neither of us spoke. We just walked in complete silence, Alice lost in her ponderings and me trying to wrap my mind around greater things than the mere love you sometimes happened to feel for someone. Love that could be taken away any moment.

The thought was mostly grim and not very joyful, and it'd have lingered in my mind for longer if it weren't for Alice's next words.

"Carlisle understands," she suddenly said, very softly, her golden eyes searching the paved road ahead of us. "What happened in Alaska cannot make him feel resentment simply because what happened to Esme is something one can only dream about. Many vampires live through their endless existences and never find the one they're destined for. It's not awfully rare to form a mating bond with someone, but it's not very common either. It's not something that happens everyday and for every vampire. Anyone who is lucky enough to exprience that... well, it's needless to say that it's nothing less of a blessing. Carlisle knows it. And he's happy that Esme found something so remarkable."

I gazed at the dark waves of the lake on our left, waiting for Alice's words to absorb. The metal railing beneath my palm was cold as I placed my hand on it.

"Love in general is nothing less of a blessing," I murmured. I heard Alice agreeing, stopping to gaze at the dark waters like I did.

"That is true," she answered. "And I didn't mean to belittle the value of it. There's not much difference between love and the feelings that are born when you see your mate. The mating bond is just more intense. Immediate. Falling in love and eventually loving someone from the bottom of your heart takes time, but when you see your mate... all those feelings that should take time to unfold and progress are already there. Almost like they had always been there." She paused, searching for words. "There's nothing you wouldn't do for that person. The instinct to protect him and keep him safe is overpowering. I'd compare it to the instinct when a mother protects her child. It's physically impossible to fight it. You would never _want_ to fight it."

I remembered Carlisle describing it similarly, but not so much in detail. He had said that you had to experience it in order to fully understand it. Glancing at Alice, I suddenly understood why the words had come so easily to her.

"You're mated," I realized. "With Jasper."

Alice nodded. "Yes."

"What about Emmett and Rosalie?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "They are _just_ in love," she stated, jestingly making finger quotation marks at the word just. "But like I said earlier, not being mates doesn't mean that the love they feel for each other is any less real. Less strong."

I nodded. "I know."

Suddenly Alice swung herself on the metal railing, balancing herself on it like a tightrope walker. Only a couple of yards below her, the dark waves of the lake were raging.

"Get down," I chided. "Someone can see you."

"There's no one here," Alice laughed, and I couldn't but shake my head at her craziness. I knew she wouldn't get hurt even if she happened to fall down on the rocky coast of the lake. And besides, it was very unlikely for any vampire, especially for Alice, to be unstable on her feet.

But then something rather curious happened. Alice froze for one short second, and then she hastily jumped down from the slippery railing. From an outsider's point of view it could have looked like she was in a hurry to get down because she had begun to feel dizzy or something, but I knew it couldn't be the case.

"Alice?" I asked when she began to lean against the railing, squeezing it with her hand as if it was the only thing to keep her up on her feet. A small dent appeared on the fragile metal, and she wrenched her fingers away hastily. In the darkness of the evening, I was able to see that her golden eyes stared blindly at the storming waves ahead of her. I ventured to wave my hand in front of her face, but she was unresponsive. I had to wonder what she was seeing – the vision seemed to take every ounce of her focus.

She blinked once, then squeezed her eyes shut. "Where did _that _come from?" she asked. I had a feeling the question wasn't for me. Her voice was tense, like a tightly pulled thread. "No..." she opened and closed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. Of was it confusion? I didn't know. "I can't understand. I have to go back," she murmured. "This is important."

I felt something touching my fingers. I realized Alice was trying to shove a cell phone into my hand. I took it, giving her a perplexed look.

"Call Carlisle," she said with a tight voice. It was more like an order than a request.

"What's going on?" I asked, watching her making her way to the wooden bench situated close to the walkway. She sat down, raising her hands to her temples as if she was having a terrible migraine.

"Call him," Alice said. "Tell him it's important. I have to try again to see – I can't lose it."

I barely made heads or tails of her words, but I complied silently, beginning to go through the contacts of the black cell phone. After finding Carlisle's number I pressed the green button, wondering how to explain the situation to him.

I gave Alice a concerned glance as I sat down beside her, listening to the beeping of the phone against my ear. Carlisle answered on the second ring.

"_Alice?"_ he asked, sounding alert.

"No, it's me," I answered, taking another glance at the petite creature hunched on the bench. I touched her shoulder with my hand, but she didn't react; her eyes were closed, a focused frown furrowing her brow.

"_Bella? Is everything all right?" _If Carlisle had been only alert before, he now sounded clearly concerned. I heard Jasper talking on the background, asking what was wrong.

"I'm not sure," I answered. "Alice is having a vision and she told me to call you. I don't know what's going on, but she sounded really weird."

"_Stay with her,"_ Carlisle said. I had never heard him sound so adamant. _"We'll be there in a few moments."_

"We're in the park," I informed, his serious tone making me even more worried.

"_We'll find you. Bella, whatever happens, stay where you are." _After that, the line went dead.

Lowering the cell phone from my ear, I looked at Alice again. She had drawn her knees to her chest, her lips moving silently. It looked like she was speaking without audible words. Her eyes were still closed, but I noticed she looked relatively calm. Only the small frown appearing to her face every now and then told me that something made her uneasy.

I knew her vision couldn't be about anything too urgent since she hadn't hurried me away by now. Or at least nothing threatened us right now – otherwise we wouldn't still be here, sitting on a park bench in the darkness of the evening. Nonetheless, I found myself searching the park with my gaze, observing the shadows of the trees and trying to see someone lurking there and waiting for a proper moment to attack us.

It couldn't have been more than just a couple of minutes after the phone call when Jasper and Carlisle arrived. I didn't know how far away they had been when I had called, but it was obvious they hadn't wasted any time coming here. My eyes couldn't even register their movements as they were suddenly there, almost like appearing from thin air. Luckily it was late and the park was empty except for us. They couldn't have moved so carelessly if any human had been present.

Jasper's hair was tousled by the wind as he crouched down beside the bench, taking Alice's hands in his own. He gave me a brief glance, but otherwise his focus was entirely on Alice.

Carlisle touched my shoulder. I got up from the bench, glancing at him.

His blond, swept-back hair was windblown, slightly disheveled from the run. The look in his eyes was alert as his gaze flitted between Alice and me. I went to stand beside him, and then I suddenly felt him lowering his hand on my shoulder in a manner that was somehow protective.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

I shook my head, still looking at Alice and waiting for her to come out of her trance. "I'm not sure," I answered. It took a while to realize that I was whispering, as if trying not to disturb Alice and Jasper. The latter was still holding Alice's hands, staring intensely at her face and closed eyes.

"She had a vision, but I don't know what it was about. She said that it was something important," I explained. "But I couldn't get anything else out of her."

Carlisle nodded. His hand slipped from my shoulder, but then I felt the tips of his fingers hovering close to my elbow. The touch of his hand was light, barely there. But I felt the coolness of his skin through my coat as he kept his hand on my arm, almost as if to soothe himself. Or to soothe me.

I glanced at him cautiously. A frown furrowed his brow, and his eyes looked a shade or two darker – it must have been the lighting. Or the lack of it.

After a minute or two, we saw Alice's small frame relaxing. She opened her eyes, a small frown appearing to her face as she looked at Jasper who was still crouched in front of her. Their eyes locked. Confusion filled two pairs of golden eyes; first Alice's, then Jasper's.

"What is it?" Jasper asked, frowning.

Alice shook her head. "I couldn't find it," she murmured. "I tried to get a clearer picture of it, but I couldn't."

"What did you see?" Carlisle asked.

She looked at him, then at me. "That same vision about Bella," she said, causing a shiver to run up my spine. "It hasn't changed." She paused, giving Jasper a long glance, like she could find all the answers from his eyes. Maybe she could.

"But I also saw something else," she continued. "Right before the vision of Bella. But I can't pinpoint it – it doesn't make any sense to me."

"What was it about?" I asked. Jasper snapped his head to look at me, as if he was only now fully comprehending that I was there. Our eyes met; an echo of a distant memory filled me, of him nearing me across the room with darkness in his eyes, of Edward's cool hands as he shoved me out of the way...

I mentally shook the image away. It didn't matter to me that my latest memory of Jasper was like that. What happened all that time ago was something I would never use against him. I hoped he knew that.

Jasper turned away, and I could swear I saw some sort of coolness in his eyes. Almost aggression. For a moment I felt confused, but after that I began to wonder if he detested me because of what had happened. Carlisle had told me that he was ashamed of what had occurred, and that he still blamed himself for attacking me. Maybe the look in his eyes hadn't been about me at all – maybe the aggression was directed at himself. But I couldn't be sure.

Alice had began to explain her vision more accurately. I shook away the thoughts, trying to focus on her words.

"It was so sudden," she said. "I was talking to Bella about something, and the image just hit me like a lightning. There was a woman in my vision – a vampire – and she was blonde but her face was just a blur. I don't know who she was."

"Could she have something to do with our situation?" Carlisle wondered.

Alice shook her head. "I don't know. It's possible."

"Go back, Alice," Jasper suggested. "Look for something that triggered it."

"I already tried," Alice said. "But I couldn't see it clearly. It's like the same thing with the vision I keep having of Bella – it's disoriented, like only a small fragment of a larger series of occurences."

We were all silent for a moment. Alice shook her head, puzzlement displayed all over her cherub face. Jasper exchanged a look with Carlisle, rising from his crouch. His eyes flicked to me for a very short while, but he avoided my gaze when he noticed that I was observing him.

I pondered Alice's words, wondering why the visions she kept having were so unclear.

"Can you describe the surroundings?" I asked, searching her golden eyes. "When you had the vision of that woman, I mean."

Jasper and Carlisle gave her a curious look, waiting for her answer.

Alice closed her eyes, frowning. "Snow," she said.

"Alaska?" Jasper suggested.

Alice shook her head. "I can't tell," she answered and shrugged. "It's possible."

"Was the woman someone of the Denali sisters?" Jasper suggested. "You said she was blonde."

Alice shook her head. "Her face wouldn't have been so unclear if it had been someone I know."

"We should inform the Denalis anyway," Carlisle murmured. "Just in case so that they know to keep their eyes open."

Jasper and Alice agreed quietly. I stayed silent, idly beginning to replay the conversation of the past minutes in my mind. I knew Alice's vision had something to do with the situation. There was no other explanation.

But otherwise, there was a cloud of mystery around the subject. I had to admit we weren't much wiser than an hour ago. But at least something had changed – the stagnant atmosphere that had been drifting around us for the past weeks was beginning to feel suffocating.

Eventually we began to make our way to my apartment. Jasper and Alice decided to go on their on way before turning to the alley that lead to the small building. Alice came to give me a swift hug, telling me not to worry too much. She promised to observe the situation for the whole night and inform me if something new came up.

Jasper kept his distance, maybe even more so than usually. It didn't seem that uncommon since I knew he was a little reserved by nature. He was standing a couple of yards away as Alice bid me goodnight, looking my way every now and then. I nearly ventured to wave my hand at him, wanting to tell him that it had been nice to see him again, but the look in his eyes was so cool that I kept my mouth shut.

I swallowed and lowered my gaze, idly thinking that my reunion with him hadn't gone as I had imagined and hoped.

I felt Carlisle touching my arm, and I raised my gaze to see his golden eyes watching me.

"Why don't you go inside," he suggested, nodding towards my apartment. "I'll be with you shortly."

I nodded, giving a brief glance at Alice and Jasper before I turned around. I wondered if Carlisle had decided to send me inside so they could talk about the situation without me present. If that was the case, I had to wonder the reason behind it. Their need to discuss the situation without me didn't really offend me, and besides I was too confused about Jasper's behaviour to bother myself with it.

A surge of warm air greeted me as I got inside. Slipping off my shoes and shrugging off my coat, I switched on the small table lamb by the window but otherwise kept the apartment dark. The small living room bathed in the orange light, and I sat down on the couch to wait for Carlisle. It was already pretty late, and I knew that I had to be up early in the morning because of work, but I really wanted to hear his opinion about Alice's vision.

I leaned my head against the back on the couch, closing my eyes to rest them – just for a while. But before I knew it, I was drifting off. My muscles jerked every once in a while as my body tried to fall asleep, but my mind refused to give up. I floated somewhere between dreams and wakefulness until I suddenly felt something soft touching the skin of my arm, eventually covering my whole body.

I jerked awake again, opening my eyes to see Carlisle covering me with a quilt. He gave me a regretful gaze, smiling softly.

"Pardon me," he whispered. "I tried not to wake you."

"It's okay," I murmured, shaking my head to get rid of the sleep. I straightened my form on the couch, asking if Alice and Jasper had left.

Carlisle nodded, suggesting that I go back to sleep. But I shook my head again, feeling already more alert.

I asked him what he thought about Alice's vision and observed his face as he sat down in the chair close to the couch.

"I am not certain," he admitted. "I'm sure it has a connection to the vision she keeps having of you, but otherwise I don't know any more than you do."

Nodding, I gave him a wary glance. "Jasper didn't have any ideas?"

Carlisle shook his head. He met my questioning eyes, narrowing his own ones barely visibly. He knew that something was bothering me. I took a deep breath, wondering how to ask him.

"Jasper seemed... tense," I stated, remembering the coolness in his eyes.

Carlisle nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. "That is why I stayed behind just now – to have a word with him. I wouldn't worry about his behaviour, Bella."

"But he seemed almost angry," I noted.

"It wasn't because he was angry with you," Carlisle assured.

"Why, then?"

He leaned forward in his chair, linking his fingers. "What happened tonight took him by surprise," he explained. "He knew he was going to meet you at some point, and he simply wanted to be prepared when that happened."

"Prepared?" I asked, wondering if he meant hunting.

"Mentally," Carlisle explained with a small smile. "Jasper doesn't like it when something unexpected happens. And what happened tonight falls under that cathegory pretty well. He wanted to orientate himself before seeing you again, but there was no time for it." He looked at me then, holding my gaze with his own. "But Bella, it wasn't only the sudden situation that had him act the way he did. It was the feelings he sensed in you that caused his behaviour."

I frowned, trying to remember how I had felt in his presence. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He was silent for a moment, not breaking the connection between our eyes. "You didn't feel threatened in his presence," he stated. It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.

"Of course not. Why would I have?"

Carlisle quirked his brow. "Considering what happened the last time you two were in the same room, it was something Jasper had expected. But when he sensed no fear from you – no regret, no resentment – he was caught off guard. And he feels that he doesn't deserve your trust."

"Then he should get over himself," I stated, shaking my head and feeling nearly appalled. "What happened in Forks wasn't his fault. I was the one who sliced my finger open and caused the entire situation – it happened, and there's no way to take it back. And I don't want him to worry about this for the rest of his life. It's no use to live through your days in regret."

Carlisle listened to my outburst without a word. He nodded when I was finished, agreeing quietly. "I concur that guilt is a wasteful feeling," he murmured. "But it takes time for Jasper to bring himself to the same conclusion as you have. As I am sure it took a lot of time for you as well."

I shrugged, forced to admit he was right. "I suppose it's not something that happens overnight."

He nodded, suddenly a sad smile on his lips. "I know."

We were silent for a while, Carlisle studying the dark red carpet on the floor and me wondering how to make Jasper see that what happened in Forks wasn't his fault. Soft, quiet words hovered in the silent room as Carlisle spoke again, causing me to look up into his golden eyes.

"Did you blame yourself for what happened?" he asked. The look in his eyes was both soft and firm, and I knew it was no use to lie when he looked like that. Not that lying was one of my strongest talents, anyway.

"At the beginning, I did," I answered, idly starting to play with the corner of the quilt. "It was my clumsiness that led to the situation and everything that came after. If I hadn't cut my finger and been such an irresistible temptation to Jasper, Edward wouldn't have felt the need to get all overprotective and forced you to move away from Forks. It's true," I shrugged. "But eventually I stopped wallowing in that – I had to. The more time that passed, the more perspective I managed to get. There were times when I was furious with everything – mostly with Edward. And now, also with myself."

Carlisle frowned. "Why would you be furious with yourself?"

"Because I let myself believe him," I stated. "Because I carried his words with me for years until I heard the truth from you. I know that at the moment I'm far away from the place where I was after he left. But there was always that one little thing that made me unknowingly tie myself to that day. All these years I believed that he left me because I wasn't good enough for him..." I shook my head, searching for words. "Even if he took advantage of my poor self-esteem and did wrong to me by justifying it for himself, the truth is that I let him. Call me a martyr, but if I had possessed an ounce of dignity and self-respect back then, I woudn't have believed his words so blindly and without a question."

Carlisle was looking at me with a peculiar look in his eyes. I wondered if I had insulted him by talking about Edward in such manner – he was his son, after all. But he had asked, and I trusted him to be able to hear honest words from me. Suddenly he began to smile softly, an appreciative expression on his face.

"It is very wise of you to see it that way," he murmured. "But I have to say that Edward shouldn't have taken advantage of the situation the way he did, despite his good intentions. I wish he could have seen beyond his own fears and trusted you to be able to live in our world like you were meant to."

The last part of the sentence made me look up at him. I nearly asked what exactly he meant by saying that, but at the last moment I chickened out.

The sudden urge to yawn overwhelmed me, and I lifted my hand to cover my mouth. It was getting really late, and as much as I wanted to continue our conversation, my body was apparently disagreeing.

Carlisle noticed my weariness, stating that he should let me get some sleep. He didn't offer to leave, nor he suggested that he should stay – it was kind of obvious that he would. Alice's recent vision caused him to be on his toes, and as obscure as the vision had been, it didn't mean that he wasn't at all worried. I could see it from his eyes – he looked more alert than during the past few days.

An image of the red-eye woman with blonde hair accompanied me as I made my way to my bedroom. But it wasn't Alice's vision that lingered in my mind just before sleep whisked me away. It was Carlisle's words that stuck with me as the dreams enveloped me in their embrace. Words that had been perhaps spoken with casualness without a deeper meaning.

"_...I wish he could have seen beyond his own fears... and trusted you to be able to live in our world like you were meant to."_

* * *

**AN: **Any thoughts about Alice's new vision? Theories? Guesses? As always, I'm eager to hear your opinion, and I also wanted to thank you for your reviews. They bring a smile to my face, and I'm more than thrilled to hear that you're liking the story so far! :)

Jasper's sentence: "Go back, Alice. Look for something that triggered it." is similar to his line in _Breaking Dawn (" Go back Alice. Look for the trigger. Search."), _and it's insolently borrowed from the works of Stephenie Meyer :)


	8. Waiting For Tomorrow

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**Loneliness adds beauty to life.**_

_**It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.**_

\- Henry Rollins -

* * *

**Waiting For Tomorrow**

The wind was cold against my face, making me shiver. The arms around me were warm, familiar, safe; they made the cold go away. They tightened around me, tensing before loosening again. He'd always had strong arms. I remembered him once carrying me all the way home when I had twisted my ankle in the park and couldn't walk back.

Who'd carry me when he was gone?

I pulled away slowly, giving his shoulders a friendly jab. "Be safe, Adrian," I said, my voice steady and firm. I refused to get all emotional in front of him. I didn't want his last memory of me to be like that. "Don't party too much. Don't get hit by a car. And don't do anything else that is stupid. To sum up: don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I won't, Mom," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Stop worrying, Bells."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and glanced at his two huge backbags. "Are you sure you got everything?" I couldn't help but ask. "Your cell phone, wallet, passport, first aid kit?"

"Yes, yes, yes... and no. I'm leaving the first aid kit for you."

I smacked his arm lightly, chuckling. "Very funny."

"It wasn't a joke. You need it more than I'll ever do."

Ignoring his comment, I stared at the small group of people getting on the blue bus that was parked close to us. Taking another deep breath, I looked at Adrian again, still not able to believe that this was the last time I'd see him. He had promised to come by in a couple of months – or years – but I knew him. He might say that now, but the world and its wonders would sweep him away so quickly he'd barely register it. The next time I'd hear about him – if I even happened to hear about him – he'd probably be somewhere in India or Siberia or wherever that was very far away. Too far away.

I swallowed, telling myself that I had seen this coming and therefore I should have been more prepared. Adrian had always been a restless soul, and when I had gotten to know him all those years ago, I had learned that Buffalo was only an intermediate stop on his way to something greater. All this time I'd known that the day would come when he had to leave.

I guess I'd thought it'd be easier than this to watch him go.

Someone started the engine of the bus. A couple more people got on, two of them carrying sailor bags. I looked at Adrian again, nearly devouring the sight of him. Devouring the presence of my closest and only friend in this city while I still had the chance. I remembered coming here all those years ago – I had been young and fearful, still a child in many ways – and I now realized that Buffalo had began to feel like home in that same moment when I had met Adrian. We had both been young people without a place to go, without a home; young people trying their own wings. Staying in the air together had been easier than trying to do it all by yourself.

"Last chance," I heard him teasing, still wearing the silly smirk I both hated and loved. The grey sky reflected from his dark brown eyes. "Come with me or you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Hmm." I bit my lip, feigning to ponder. "As miserable as this is, I'm going to have to say no. I didn't bring any luggage."

"You don't need any luggage."

I quirked my brow at him. "And what would I wear after you've dragged me through a jungle or forced me to take a shortcut through a labyrinth of sewers just because it's more fun?"

Adrian laughed. "I wouldn't do the sewer-thing, as tempting as it sounds."

"Yeah, right," I murmured, rolling my eyes.

Adrian glanced at the watch on his wrist. Then he looked over his shoulder toward the bus full of people. Without a word, he raised the two backbags from the ground, casually swinging the other one to hang over his shoulder. The goofy smile I was so accustomed to began to disappear. But his brown eyes were smiling; they were always smiling.

"You'd better go," I said before he could say anything. His jokes got usually very bad when he was feeling awkward or if he was otherwise unsure of what to say. "Unless you want to miss the bus, that is. And with your luck, the next one doesn't leave until next Christmas."

Adrian shuddered, pretending to be horrified. "Even an hour in this city might just be enough to kill me," he claimed.

"Drama queen," I muttered under my breath loudly enough so he could hear.

"One of us has to be," he stated. "Since you're such a nerdy bookworm. And just so you know, it's a synonym for _boring_."

I snorted, pretending to be miffed. "Take that back or I _will _come with you. And I'll take all of my boring books with me to kill your fun."

"You wouldn't do that to me," Adrian said, looking at me down his nose. Then he glanced at his watch again, both frowning and smiling at the same time; it was a peculiar expression. "Now I really got to go. The bus will leave in a minute."

Nodding, I took a deep breath. The smile came more easily than I had expected. I allowed it to conquer my features and spread all the way to my eyes, very well knowing that this was the last moment we were breathing the same air, but also knowing that we were both smiling while doing so. Not many could manage that while saying goodbye, but Adrian and I could.

"Goodbye, Adrian," I said, still smiling. "Send me a postcard."

He rubbed his neck like always when he was feeling uncomfortable. "I'll try," he said, and I knew it was the most he could promise. Then he stepped closer, pressing a kiss on my cheek. After smiling at me once more both with his eyes and his lips, he turned around and walked to the door of the bus. I watched him getting inside, and then I watched the blue bus driving away. And I wondered where it would go. Where it would take him. I wondered if he was happy when he finally got there. Wherever there was.

The wind seeped through my clothes; all warmth left me. I turned away from the empty parking space of the bus station and began to walk. I needed to move, to leave the grey afternoon behind me. I wanted for tomorrow to come, to know that today had changed into yesterday. Because time healed everything. It took away the longing, slowly but surely. Inconspiciously. There was something mysterious about it; something comforting. You might be sad today, and you might be sad tomorrow and for the whole next week, but then one day you just woke up and noticed that you weren't that sad anymore. I wanted that. Waiting for tomorrow was better than mourning for yesterday.

I glanced up at the grey sky, waiting for tears, waiting for rain. But both were absent. My eyes were completely dry; I wondered about that. I should have been able to cry when I was sorrowful, right? But only a deep sigh left my body, and that was all that there was. Only one breath to express everything I felt at the moment. I'd have preferred tears; they were honest. Sincere. Impossible to hide. They left behind red eyes and stuffy nose, but at least they did something. Tears cleansed you in a way no deep breaths ever could.

The walk back to my apartment seemed long. The thought of taking a cab was tempting, but I wanted to walk, regardless of the cold wind. Maybe I just wanted to make my time pass with something. It was Sunday, and the bookstore was closed. Therefore I had no reason to go there and hide myself behind the tall shelves and endless stacks of volumes.

Sometimes I hated Sundays. There were too many hours in that day, and for some reason it felt like they were longer than during normal week days. Spare time had always been something I had destested. I couldn't relax by slouching on the couch all day long and doing nothing. My only way to relax was to sit behind the counter with a fat book in my lap. Or to arrange them on the shelves after gently wiping the dust off them. Those were my ways to unwind. To be surrounded by the familiar smell of paper and ink, to hear the small bell above the door jingle and see Adrian stepping inside...

Except that couldn't happen. Because Adrian had left, and because it was Sunday.

Another deep sigh left my chest; still no tears. Maybe I was beyond those. Turning a corner of the street, I hesitated and stopped. What the hell, I thought, spinning around and changing direction. I'd go exactly where I wanted to be the most right now, not caring if it was my day off.

I hurried my way past a small group of people who had gathered on the sidewalk, having a loud conversation and laughing. Apparently they didn't detest Sundays like I did. Apparently they hadn't watched their best friend getting on a bus and leaving forever.

Tapping my foot against the curb impatiently, I waited for the light to switch to green. When it did, I basically ran across the street, suddenly anxious to get to where I was headed. Anxious to leave behind the group of happy, laughing people. Anxious to leave behind the grey sky, the blue bus driving away and the tears that still refused to flow.

Once arriving to the bookstore and getting inside, I locked the door behind me. The space was dim, only the faint daylight managing to creep its way through the display window. I decided to keep it that way as I sat down behind the counter, closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath. The smell of paper and ink filled my lungs, comforting me more than anything. Lifting my fingers to rub my temples, I realized that I was getting a horrible headache.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, in the dim lighting of the bookstore, surrounded by comforting smells and books with happy endings. I wasn't sure if all the books sitting on the shelves had happy endings; I only presumed. Or hoped, more likely. Because everything and everyone should have a happy ending. And one should be able to believe in those. Because if not, what was the point?

I wondered what happened to those who didn't have happy endings. And what happened to those who didn't believe in them? Were their lives less fulfilling, less meaningful, because they didn't have that certain trust in life? Or were their lives more full and rich because they didn't have any expectations? And therefore, was it cowardice or an enviable ability to have faith, to take life as it comes, when you didn't believe in happy endings? Or was it faith at all if you expected nothing?

I didn't know.

A light tap on the store window made me raise my gaze from the counter, drawing me away from my ponderings. I lifted my eyes to see a familiar form standing outside and raising his hand, an unsure expression on his face.

I got up and walked to the door, unlocking it. I gestured for Carlisle to step inside, and he gave me a searching look as he entered, watching me closely as I locked the door behind him. I ventured to glance at him as I walked back behind the counter and sat down again. The look in his eyes was kind, but concerned. I wondered how closely he had been watching me today. It was pretty safe to assume that he had been observing me when I had seen Adrian off.

He walked closer, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the counter.

For a moment, there was just silence between us. I didn't bother to act all perky and happy or otherwise pretend that everything was normal. I just sat still, waiting for the urge to talk, to say something. Anything. But the urge didn't come.

I hadn't expected it to.

Carlisle drew in a quiet breath, still studying my face. The concern in his eyes, the faint glimmer of understanding, nearly induced the tears I was still unable to shed. The tears that I was still so beyond, for some reason or another.

"Is everything all right?" he asked quietly.

I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "Yeah," I answered, leaning my elbows against the counter and rubbing my temples again. Damn headache.

Carlisle quirked his brow, regarding me with his gaze.

I shrugged, eventually deciding to be honest with him. "I'm sad," I admitted. I glanced at the dark countertop under my elbows, speaking the words I had dreaded to say even to myself. "Adrian left."

He nodded, a small frown appearing to his brow. "I'm sorry to hear that." Falling silent for a moment, he kept watching me with his golden eyes. "How are you?"

Shrugging, I straightened a pile of wall calendars I had laid out on the counter for people to buy. "I feel silly," I admitted, looking quickly his way. "I've known all along that he'll leave someday. I guess that's why I thought it'd be easy to watch him go."

"But it wasn't."

I shook my head. "No."

Carlisle met my gaze as I lifted my head. The look in his eyes was kind. "Just because you've been aware of his plans doesn't mean that you cannot be sorrowful," he said softly.

I mulled over his words, nodding. "I guess," I murmured. Feeling his gaze still studying me, I glanced at him again.

"You will miss him," he stated. It wasn't a question, but for some reason I felt compelled to answer. To admit it to myself. I hadn't allowed myself to do that during all these past weeks when I had been aware of Adrian's nearing departure.

"Yes," I said. For some reason it made me feel better. Something rippled through me – the relief of acknowledgement. I suppose that was something I had needed. "He was the only friend I had here," I heard myself confessing. Although, he had been more than just a friend – he had been a vital part of my life. He had been someone who had seen me changing from the young, straying girl into the person I was now. Someone who had seen all the versions of me and waited patiently until I had found the right one to settle into. Not many had seen me up that close. Not many had lingered in my life that long.

Something pulled me from my ponderings; Carlisle's silence. He was watching me from across the counter.

"That is not true," he said gently. "You have other friends here."

I tried to read his tone, wondering if my words had offended him. It was easy to consider Carlisle as my friend after all these weeks he had spent in my company. His presence felt familiar, even comfortable. Of course I hadn't forgotten him, nor I had forgotten Alice and Jasper. Of course I knew they were here; I'd had no intention to ignore them.

_But they won't stay, _a small voice at the back of my mind reminded. Sometimes it was easier to hear the voices of that kind; the quiet ones. The stealthy ones. I wondered why they often had the tendency to drown everything else under them, to prevent you from hearing something that was louder and more important to hear. I wondered what made them so strong to accomplish that.

"You won't be here forever," I stated, finally able to say out loud what had been brewing inside of me for these past weeks. The words burned my lips as I released them. They burned my heart as I let them go. They left behind a searing mark, a recognition of something I hadn't wanted to admit to myself. And I knew it, then. When the day came when they'd leave, I wouldn't be indifferent about it. I wouldn't be emotionless.

I'd be sad.

Carlisle was watching me. The look in his eyes was something I couldn't decipher completely. I saw pensiveness, not in a solemn way, but as though he was deep in thought, almost like trying to remember something. Or maybe trying to figure out something to say.

It had to be the latter. And suddenly I felt regret for putting him in that situation. I had no right to blurt out something like that just because I was upset and force him to give me an answer. Nothing obligated them to stay once the situation was over. I accepted that. Of course I did.

_Although, _that same quiet voice somewhere inside on me reminded, _nothing compelled them to seek me out in the first place. They didn't come here to protect me because they felt obligated. They came because they wanted to keep me safe. Because they cared about my safety. About me._

I wanted to believe that quiet voice. And I did, to some extent. But the more pessimistic part of me, something that tended to lift its head in moments like this when I wanted to stifle it the most, warned me not to have too many expectations.

I looked around me, once more beginning to consider the endless amount of books resting on the shelves. I thought about their endings, happy and unhappy. And I realized; didn't the reader always have at least some sort of expectations from the very first page? How many people could open a book or go through one's life without having any wishes, hopes or desires at all?

Not many. And certainly not me.

I raised my gaze to see Carlisle still watching me. Still trying to form an answer to the question I hadn't asked. There was a small part of me that wanted to block my ears as his mouth opened and his lips began to form the words that could become a dangerous answer – it was the part of me that didn't want to believe in happy endings. The part that refused to have any expectations, because I might end up disappointed.

But I payed no attention to that part; it felt remote, even foreign to me. Because I wasn't afraid to feel. Because I was human; I had expectations, and I had wishes and hopes and desires.

Carlisle's words were quiet as he spoke. They almost sounded like an apology. They almost sounded like a promise.

"We are here now," he said. The side of his mouth quirked barely visibly, but I saw it, saw that small smile.

Maybe because I chose to.

* * *

"No, Renée," I sighed, pouring the rest of the coffee into the kitchen sink and holding the phone to my ear with my left shoulder as I rinsed the cup and wiped the counter clean. "I haven't broken my leg. I haven't run out of money. And I'm not going to spend Thanksgiving with a secret boyfriend or anything. That's not why I'm staying in Buffalo."

I could easily hear my mother's skepticism at the other end. Knowing someone well enough to be able to hear everything you needed to know from a simple moment of silence was rare. I considered it as a privilege. Not many knew their mothers as well as I knew mine. And not many were lucky enough to be able to be best friends with their mothers, despite the distance and the long periods of time that passed without communicating.

I knew my mother, and I knew she wasn't buying what I told her. I'd always been a bad liar, and she always knew if I had something to hide.

"Really," I insisted, breaking the silence and giving a swift glance at Carlisle who was sitting on the couch and trying to look like he wasn't listening. Turning my gaze back to the kitchen counter again, I sought out the most convincing tone of voice I possessed. "I'm just really busy. With the bookstore and everything." _And trying not to get killed by a bloodthirsty vampire._

"_You won't keep the store open on Thanksgiving," _Renée pointed out. _"Why won't you just have a long weekend_ _and spend it with me and Phil in Florida? It's been ages since I saw you. I miss you."_

I had to give a short laugh. "It's only been a few weeks, Mom," I reminded, remembering her short visit in September when she had insisted on spending my twenty-sixth birthday with me. "I miss you too, and of course it'd be nice to see you on Thanksgiving, but I think I have to stay here. I've got so much catching up to do with work and everything."

I heard her sighing at the other end. "_All right," _she consented. _"You're as stubborn as always, I see."_

"And who did I get that from?" I jested.

"_Charlie," _she answered immediately.

A laugh escaped my lips. "I'm not so sure about that," I disagreed. "Speaking of Charlie, why don't you invite him?"

"_I did," _Renée confessed. _"But he's staying with Sue. Their first Thanksgiving together, you know."_

I had to smile. Sue Clearwater was an old friend of Charlie's. They had known each other for ages but hadn't gotten together until recently. Several years ago the death of Sue's husband, Harry, had made Charlie and Sue close, but it had taken a long time before they had allowed anything romantic to happen between them. In a way they were both still grieving; Sue for her husband, Charlie for his friend. But grief had the tendecy to bring people together.

I finished the phone conversation after Renée had made sure I had enough money to buy food and pay the rent. She was aware of my occasional cash flow issues and tended to worry. I never took the money she offered, knowing that I'd get by just fine. It was strange how our roles had gotten reversed so quickly – I still hadn't gotten used to that. What I had gotten used to was to worry about _her_, not vice versa. It felt odd that it wasn't _me _asking _her_ if she had remembered to buy food and tank up the car. I was so accustomed to take care of her that it was sometimes difficult to let go.

Lowering the phone on the counter, I sighed and began to saunter closer to the couch. Carlisle lifted his gaze, giving me a look that was more or less apologizing. I sat down next to him, idly thinking that Renée had been easier to convince than I had expected.

"Are you certain you don't wish to spend the Thanksgiving with your mother?" Carlisle asked. "I am sure we could make arrangements. It would be no trouble for some of us to go to Florida and watch over you while you visit her."

I smiled wryly, leaning my head against the back of the couch. "And you could manage that with all the sunlight?" I asked skeptically. "It's too risky."

Carlisle looked determined. "It's not impossible to accomplish. Hiding during sunny days is no trouble for us. We do it all the time if we happen to travel."

I shook my head, giving him a small smile. "No, it's okay. But thank you for offering." Biting my lip, I reached out for the newspaper on the coffee table. "And besides," I continued, giving Carlisle another glance, "I don't want to add any risks to the situation. If someone really is after me, I don't want to lead them to my mother." An image of James rose to my eyes; of the greedy expression on his face, of my mother's terrified voice on the phone... The memory was blurry, but not so much as many others. It was easy to remember what it had felt like to be frightened for someone. Someone you loved more than anything.

Even though James had only tricked me into believing that he had my mother and was going to kill her if I didn't show up in that ballet studio, I could never understate the danger the situation had held. If I had learned something from that experience, it was to never allow my family's world and mine touch each other. I had to keep them as far away from each other as possible in order to minimize the risks of someone getting hurt.

Carlisle's voice sounded from somewhere far away. I turned to look at him again, raising my brow in a questioning manner.

"Sorry?" I asked, a little embarrassed I hadn't listened.

Carlisle's mouth curved into a small smile. "If you are certain about staying here, then of course I agree," he repeated. "I only regret that the situation is preventing you from seeing your parents. I am sure you aren't able to visit them too often."

I shrugged and agreed quietly, realizing I hadn't seen Charlie since this summer. "I don't see them that often anymore, anyway. They have their own lives and I have mine," I murmured. "And the situation is what it is. There's no point in obsessing about it since there's not much we can do."

Carlisle nodded. He glanced towards the small hallway that led to my bedroom – Alice was there, shuffling through my wardrobe. I had no intention to stop her from doing that, and it's not like it'd be any use. As long as she wouldn't try to make me go through some ridiculous style makeover, she could do whatever she wanted.

And besides, she had actually asked a permission to go through my clothes before touching anything. That counted for something.

"Has Alice seen anything interesting?" I asked, thinking about the strange vision of the blonde woman she had seen a couple of days ago.

Carlisle shook his head. "Nothing has changed," he said, sighing nearly inaudibly. "She manages to receive a swift flash of that foreign vampire if she tries very hard. But it's a struggle – she has to focus for hours to manage even that. It's peculiar," he admitted, suddenly frowning.

"Why?"

Carlisle glanced at me, his eyes more serious than a moment ago. "Usually she can see vampires easily," he explained. "More easily than humans, I mean. If a nomad was to cross paths with us, for intance, Alice could usually see it days, maybe even weeks beforehand. But now..." He shook his head, again frowning. "It seems we are missing something – or then we are somehow misreading the situation."

I mulled over his words, feeling as confused as he. "Does Jasper have a theory?" I asked, for some reason thinking he had good instincts. I didn't know why I assumed that – I guess it was because there had always been a cloud of enigma around him. Maybe he was good at solving mysteries since he was little bit of a mystery himself.

"I'm sure he has plenty," Carlisle answered, proving my suspicions correct. "He has a very tactical mind."

I raised my brow in a questioning manner. "Has he shared anything with you?"

Carlisle shook his head. "He hasn't. That is probably because he hasn't come up with anything too tangible. If he had, he would've told us by now."

I nodded, on a whim asking where Jasper was tonight. I hadn't caught a glimpse of him after the night Alice'd had her vision. For some reason I felt like he was avoiding me, and after what Carlisle had told me about his feelings concerning the situation that had taken place in Forks, I really had no reason to doubt it. I wanted him to come around. Now when I knew he still felt guilty about what happened all those years ago, all I wanted to do was to see him and tell him that he had no reason to harbor any regret.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I nearly missed Carlisle's answer to my earlier question. It was a name he mentioned that had me on the alert again.

"He was planning on meeting Edward in a couple of days," Carlisle said. "If he manages to find him, that is. He's still with Emmett and Rosalie, trying to follow any leads that could prove Victoria to be behind all this."

"Jasper will find them in a few days," Alice piped up from my bedroom. "I've kept him up to date about their location."

"How long will they continue searching for Victoria?" I asked.

Carlisle shook his head, an expression of uncertainty passing on his face. "I cannot be certain. I think it might be wiser for us to focus on other possibilities if they won't discover anything of importance soon."

I thought to myself that there was little to focus on; I suppose that's why Edward and the others were so reluctant to give up on Victoria. Doing something was better than doing nothing at all.

I was just about to ask Carlisle if we should reconsider the Volturi's part in this, as implausible as it seemed right now for them to have something to do with the situation, but before I managed to utter a word, Carlisle got up from the couch and walked over to the window by the kitchen counter. He seemed to be deep in thought, almost like he was not even aware that he was moving. His golden eyes stared at the darkness on the other side of the window. The usual patience, composure, _peace, _all those things that made Carlisle who he was, were suddenly gone from him. He was restless. I recognized it; his eyes gave him away.

I knew it was the deadlock situation that caused that. He was troubled by it, even though he tried not to show it. During these past weeks he had spent in my presence he had rarely given me the impression that the situation was frustrating him, but I knew it had to.

Getting up from the couch, I reached out to take my coat that was hanging over the back of the armchair.

"I'm going for a walk," I said, making a feeble attempt to try to take his mind off the situation. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Carlisle turned away from the window, consenting quietly. Before going to the door, I went to peek into my bedroom to make sure Alice hadn't decided to do something crazy while she was being unsupervised. For my huge surprise, she hadn't taken down walls or anything. But she had hauled every piece of clothing I owned into a huge pile in the middle of my bedroom and now seemed to be in the middle of categorizing them by their color, type and design.

I was still rolling my eyes at the sight as I walked to Carlisle who was waiting me by the front door. He gave me a small smile, without a doubt knowing what kind of a chaos Alice had managed to induce.

The night was cool and dark as we made our way to the familiar park by the lake. I welcomed the feeling of cool air against my skin; it felt refreshing. It was late enough for the rare sight of the moon to reveal itself from behind the thick layer of clouds. I found myself studying the silvery surface of it, a sudden thought overcoming my mind as I did. I wondered if Adrian was looking at the same moon; I wondered if he was thinking about me as well. It had been two days since he had left, and I couldn't help but think if it was enough for him to forget me completely. After all, a lot could happen in two days. A lot could happen in just two seconds.

Carlisle's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I hadn't realized that I had slowed my pace while I was staring at the glowing surface of the waning moon.

"Do you miss your friend?" he asked quietly.

I turned to gaze at him, a little startled but also curious. "What makes you think that?" I asked.

His shoulders rose to a small shrug. "You looked solem, and I made an assumption."

Apparently he had been observing me more closely than I'd realized. It was strange how he had known exactly what I had been thinking about. For some reason the realization made me feel confused, but also oddly satisfied. I pushed the feeling away with a frown, not really knowing where it came from.

"I do miss him," I answered his earlier question. Stopping to admire the silver light playing on the restless waves, I heard Carlisle stopping beside me. He lowered his pale hand on the metal railing bordering the paved walkway. His skin glowed subtly in the moonlight.

"I am sure he misses you as well," he murmured, looking my way and giving me a small smile.

"I'm not so sure about that," I answered, chuckling. "He's probably so thrilled to be out of this town that he doesn't have a thought to spare for me. He tends to be like that." I paused, giving him a small shrug. "It doesn't take more than a blink for him to forget everything he's left behind."

The other side of Carlisle's mouth quirked. "I wouldn't be so sure about it. You're rather memorable, after all."

I chuckled softly at his words, trying to think of a cheeky comment to give him. But I found none. The wind was suddenly cooler against the skin of my cheeks; I was blushing like an idiot. It annoyed me. An innocent comment like that shouldn't have caused such a reaction in me, especially because it had been spoken almost jestingly.

Hadn't it?

I turned my head to give him a glance, trying to forget the hotness in my cheeks. It was difficult. Especially when Carlisle suddenly lifted his hand to brush his fingers against the burning skin.

The touch was gentle, swift and innocent. It passed quickly, but yet it lingered, leaving cool tingles in its wake. As he drew his hand away, my skin refused to let go of the touch – _tingles, tingles, tingles_. And then my eyes met his. Mine, brown like the earth in the spring. And his, golden like the sun in its fullest.

I searched for my voice, tried to seek out the words I had forgotten. Why couldn't I remember them?

Carlisle found his own ones first. Maybe he hadn't lost them the way I had. Maybe he didn't feel the tingles dancing on his skin like I did.

"It is relieving to learn that certain things won't change," he said quietly with a smile, apparently talking about my flaming red cheeks.

I licked my lips; they were dry.

"Why is it relieving?" I asked, trying to seek a playful tone but somehow the words came out as a whisper. I idly realized that my voice was slightly breathless; it embarrassed me. "Do you not like changes?"

Carlisle glanced at the sky. Shadows danced on his face as the clouds shrouded the moon for a short moment. "There's something comforting about stability," he mused. "To know that there's something constant in this world... I suppose it can have a calming effect on you."

I had a feeling we were having the same conversation but only he was completely aware of what we were talking about. I studied the pale skin of his face, the angle of his jaw, the look in his eyes that held many things at the same time; peace, longing, acceptance. I knew it, then. He was thinking about Esme. About the constancy and stability he had once lost. Was he still yearning for those things? Was accepting really as painless as he had once made it sound?

"Do you ever miss her?" The words broke free before I managed to rein them in.

Carlisle looked away from the moon. While there was surprise in his eyes, there was also something else in them; longing. And I knew that my earlier thoughts about Esme had been correct, but yet I felt no joy after guessing right. I only felt sorrowful. For him, for the longing he felt for someone who was beyond his reach. For someone who was not his to long for, not his to love. Not romantically, anyway.

"Sometimes," he answered softly. "I miss her company." A small laugh left his lips, but the sound was more sad than joyful. A thoughtful expression came over his face as he turned to look at the moon again. I didn't know if he did that to avoid my eyes, or was he just so deep in thought. "At times I feel like it is more or less foolish of me," I heard him murmuring.

"What is?" I asked, not sure I understood. "To miss Esme?"

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It is not as she has disappeared from the face of the earth," he explained. "It should be enough for me – to know that she's living and breathing. To know that she's happy."

"Just because you know all those things doesn't mean that you can't miss her," I pointed out, remembering him saying something similar to me when I had been sad after Adrian had left. "Just because you know that she's happy doesn't mean you can't miss the things you had with her. The things you lost."

He looked away from the moon, turning to gaze at me again. "But that is the very essence of the matter. I have not lost anything. Not when I really think about it."

I understood what he was saying, but at the same time I thought that he was being stubborn on purpose. It was wrong that he didn't allow himself to feel sadness after what had happened with Esme. "Are you saying that I have no right to miss Adrian, either?" I asked pointedly. "That just because I know he's happy wherever he is, I should deny myself from feeling sorrowful because he left?"

Carlisle met my gaze. For a moment he looked like he was about to give a voice to another argument, but eventually he stayed silent. The look in his eyes changed; from them I saw that my point had been made. Suddenly, he reached out with his hand, gently grasping my fingers as if to apologize his earlier words. My hands were nearly numb from the cool night air, and as his cold fingers grasped mine, I almost felt no difference in the temperatures of our skins. It felt strange, and at the same time it didn't. There was some odd feeling of familiarity in his touch, something that was almost intimate. I had to concentrate on breathing; it was suddenly very difficult.

"You said you miss her company sometimes," I managed to continue quietly. "That means you're lonely. There's nothing wrong about it."

He shook his head leisurely, his eyes searching the night sky again. "I wouldn't consider myself lonely," he disagreed. His voice was gentle, but behind it, I heard uncertainty. "I have a family around me. Therefore I am not lonely. So why should I proclaim myself as such?"

"Because sometimes loneliness is not about the people who are around you," I answered. "It can't be defined by the amount of people who are in your life, because loneliness is not a physical state."

I waited until he turned to look at me again. When he finally did, he was silent for several moments before speaking again. "Are you ever lonely, Bella?" he asked. I couldn't quite interpret his tone – it was oddly flat. Not indifferent, but flat.

I studied his eyes, the way the moonlight changed them from golden to silver. "I'm not lonely," I answered, holding his gaze. "But sometimes I might _feel_ lonely. Do you see what I'm saying?"

His lips opened to speak, but no words came out. He allowed me to hold his gaze for a while more, but eventually he turned his head away again. My fingers slipped from his grasp, very slowly. I had a sudden feeling that I had unknowingly crossed some unspoken line; like I had caught a glimpse of something that wasn't meant for my eyes. Maybe his sudden confession about Esme was supposed to be a secret, something he hadn't meant to share with anyone.

But he had. Why had he decided to share it with me?

I didn't know.

We continued our walk, following the coastline of the lake. Our pace was leisured, and our words suddenly anywhere but on our tongues; it was very silent. I played back our conversation, idly thinking about what we had been discussing before talking about Esme. I made a tentative attempt to continue the conversation, but not wanting to force the words if they refused to come. I suddenly had a feeling that something had shifted tonight. The air around us, _between _us, was different.

"I think it's an illusion," I heard myself saying eventually, meeting Carlisle's gaze boldly as he turned to look at me.

"What is?" he asked.

"Constancy and stability," I replied, thinking about his earlier confession about how those things had a calming effect on him.

He quirked his brow at my words; it was almost a question.

"Nothing really stays the same when you think about it," I explained. "And what's really comforting is that no one can do anything about it."

A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. "_That_ is comforting?" he asked.

"Yes," I stated, crossing my arms and turning my back to the lake. The high railing pressed into my back as I leaned against it. I gave Carlisle a quick glance.

He was studying me with a curious expression on his face. He nearly seemed intrigued by my words, but I couldn't be sure.

"And besides," I continued after a while, "the more you fear the change, the more it's going to affect you."

"Changes always affect you," he countered almost playfully. "Whether you fear them or not."

"Hmm." I tilted my head to the side, giving him a smile. "You may be right," I admitted, pushing myself away from the railing and beginning to walk again. Carlisle followed me, falling into step beside me.

As we walked, we were silent. For a moment, even two. Then I broke the silence again, continuing our earlier conversation like no time had passed. Like there had been no silence at all.

"It always has a negative tone to it," I pondered aloud. "The word change, I mean."

"Most people feel that changes are adverse," Carlisle answered after a while. "Undesired."

"I don't," I stated, giving him a glance.

The corner of his mouth quirked. "You are not like most people," he murmured quietly.

I gave him a surprised look, wondering what he meant when he said that. But I didn't ask, only began to wonder out loud again. For some reason, I wanted to hear him speak. To understand his mind and thoughts. I didn't know where that curiosity came from; that thirst to speak and hear him answer.

"What makes a change undesired?" I asked. "And what makes it favorable?"

"Hmm." A small smile made its way to his lips again as he pondered; I could see that he was enjoying our conversation. "I suppose if you have to give something up, it makes the change more difficult to accept. But if you gain something, the effect will be different."

I stopped my walking, turning to look at him. "And what if you lose and gain at the same time? Is it changing?"

Carlisle stopped as well. His golden eyes were very bright; I saw the moon reflecting from them. "I do not know," he answered very quietly. "It depends on what you lose and what you gain."

I smiled, thinking to myself that it was a very good answer.

* * *

_The sand beneath my feet is warm. It reminds me of home, of the endless summers in my childhood. And I wonder: why did the time pass differently back then? What was the magic that allowed for the summers to last forever? What made the water in the ocean feel warmer than it really was?_

"_I'm not cold, Mom," I remember saying more than once. In truth, I had been cold, but I had wanted to swim. I had craved to feel the water against my skin, and I had craved it more than the warm blanket Renée had held out for me._

_Where did that magic go? That magic that made a normal summer an eternal one? That magic that made the seconds pass so differently, peacefully? Why did they flow through our fingers now, like grains of sand, when as a child we had been able to grasp every single one of them? Why did the time slip away from us so easily when we had once been able to feel it around us, to touch it with our hands? _

_And why was the water in the ocean now colder? Or had it always been that cold, but we had simply chosen to ignore it? And in the end, was it the seconds, the time, the childhood, that moved away from us, or did we move away from it? Was it by choice or by accident?_

_I lift my gaze from the sand, following the trail of light with my eyes. The moonlight dances on the waves, and I stop to admire it for a moment before turning to the person who I know to be there. _

_My mother stands in the ankle-deep water, holding the hem of her summer dress. The waves play around her, touching her calves, and I reach out with my hand as if to touch her._

_She has a calming smile on her lips; wrinkles form around her eyes and mouth. I remember - a hundred smiles is worth a million wrinkles._

"_Mom?" I ask, reaching out with my hand again. But she won't come to me._

"_You must choose," she says, her voice comforting, guiding. "But before you choose, you have to know what is right for you."_

"_I don't know what is right," I say. "I don't want to choose."_

_She only smiles as an answer. A wave comes from the ocean, slowly and serenely, gliding towards the shore with a quiet whisper. I watch as the water recedes again, expecting the wave to take my mother away like last time. But she doesn't go anywhere; she stands completely still, as though waiting for something._

_The wave returns to the ocean. I feel the breeze against my skin. It's warm, like the sand beneath my feet._

"_Changes always affect you. Whether you fear them or not."_

_It's not my mother who speaks, I realize. I turn my head, only now noticing the person standing next to me. Moonlight, golden hair, eyes swimming with kindness. Tingles, tingles, tingles. My lips open without my consent._

"_What makes a change undesired?" I hear myself asking._

_Carlisle smiles. "Bella," he says and reaches out to touch my cheek. "You are not like most people."_

_I frown, wanting to tell him that he didn't answer my question. But there is something familiar in his words, and I stay silent. There's something familiar in his touch, as well, and I stay still. I close my eyes, savoring the feel of his cool fingers against my skin. I burn; I feel the blood coursing through my veins, warming the skin of my cheeks. _

"_It is relieving to learn that certain things won't change," I hear Carlisle whispering. Opening my eyes, I gaze into his golden ones._

"_Nothing really stays the same when you think about it," I answer._

_A corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. His cool hand leaves the skin of my cheek, only to settle on my hip. He pulls me closer. The movement feels natural, as does the way my hands wrap around his shoulders. The skin beneath my fingers is cool as I step into his embrace._

_Another wave comes from the ocean just as his lips touch mine._


	9. Embers And Flames

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

**_"I believe that two people are connected at the heart,_**

**_and it doesn't matter what you do,_**

**_or who you are or where you live;_**

**_there are no boundaries or barriers if two people are destined to be together."_**

**_-_**Julia Roberts-

* * *

**Embers And Flames  
**

~x*x~

"_It is relieving to learn that certain things won't change," I hear Carlisle whispering. Opening my eyes, I gaze into his golden ones._

"_Nothing really stays the same when you think about it," I answer._

_A corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. His cool hand leaves the skin of my cheek, only to settle on my hip. He pulls me closer. The movement feels natural, as does the way my hands wrap around his shoulders. The skin beneath my fingers is cool as I step into his embrace._

_Another wave comes from the ocean just as his lips touch mine._

~x*x~

I woke up with a start. The jolt went through my entire body, and for a moment I felt like I'd been floating in the air and then suddenly dropped to the hard ground from great heights. My fingers fumbled for the light switch, and soon the lamp on my bedside table began to spread golden light into the room. It hurt my eyes, but I didn't care. In fact, I welcomed the distraction, because it gave me something to focus on.

When my eyes got used to the light and the discomfort disappeared, I began to stare at the grey-white ceiling high above my face. Studying the small cracks and crevices on the surface of it, I idly thought that I'd once planned to hide the small imperfections with plaster, but I'd never gotten around to do it. That particular thought was so ordinary and simple that I decided to mull over it for a while more.

But the pounding heartbeat in my ears didn't allow me to think about plastering the ceiling. It didn't allow me to forget. I felt the pulsing of my heart with every fiber of my being; it was the kind of pounding you had when you were having a terrible headache.

But I didn't have a headache. The reason for my wakefulness, for the throbbing of my heart, was something entirely else.

I closed my eyes to keep the thoughts away, but only to be bombarded with clear images of the blue moonlight and the waves hitting the shore... of the golden hair and golden eyes...

I turned to my stomach, taking the pillow and pressing it against the back of my head. It was dark, then. Completely silent. I stayed there, surrounded by the darkness and silence until I needed to breathe again. And even a while more after that.

When I began to feel dizzy, I sat up. After one slow inhale and one slow exhale, I opened my eyes.

_It was just a dream. _I closed my eyes, willing myself to believe the words. Because why wouldn't I believe them? Dreams rarely made sense, because they were dreams. They had nothing to do with reality, because your mind made them up. It was your subconscious that created them when your mind was defenseless and unprotected. It weaved innocent moments into images and feelings that didn't exist.

But _why_?

I stood up shakily, making my way to the bathroom and ignoring my own question. Not because I was afraid to answer it, but simply because I had no answer. Why would I have?

Confusion filled me so thoroughly that my usual five-minute shower lasted nearly a half an hour. It wasn't until when the hot water began to run out when I got back some of my sense and forced myself to step out. I got dressed slowly, trying to buy more time to think and collect myself. I knew that I shouldn't get out of the room until I'd managed to quiet my rushing mind.

_It was just a dream_, I told myself again as I pulled on a black sweater. It took me a while to notice that it was wrong side out.

_ Dreams are silly_, I kept chanting to myself. _They are only images created by your subconscious. They don't have a deeper meaning behind them, despite what you are dreaming about. Or despite who you are dreaming about._

_Right?_

I shook my head and finished my dressing, taking a deep breath as I stared at my bedroom door. Then I took a step toward it, stubbornly deciding to forget the dream. The silly, wonderful dream.

_Not wonderful, _I reproached myself. _Just silly._

I made my way to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for a casual greeting and wondering if Carlisle could see from my face that something was wrong. I was bad at hiding things. Really bad.

A sigh of relief escaped me when I saw only Alice sitting on the couch. She was browsing through a pile of magazines I didn't remember buying. They probably weren't even mine, and after reading the name _Vogue_ from one of the covers, I knew that Alice must have dragged them into my apartment when I hadn't payed attention.

"Morning," she greeted, standing up with one fluid motion. "Did you have sweet dreams?"

I was just pouring myself coffee, and I pretty much missed the mug as I heard her words. Clearing my throat, I wiped the counter clean where I had spilled the hot drink. Not looking at her, I told her yes as casually as I was able.

Once I'd managed to pour myself coffee without causing a flood, I sat down in the armchair close to her. She began to eye me suspiciously as I took a sip, and I idly began to wonder if I had said something in my sleep. What if she knew what I had been dreaming about? What would she think of me?

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" she chided, the space between her perfectly shaped eyebrows crinkling.

Relieved that she didn't have anything else to criticize me about, I gave her a shrug. "I never eat anything in the morning," I explained. "I don't have any appetite."

Alice looked reproachful. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," she said, suddenly reminding me of my first grade teacher.

I rolled my eyes. "Are we seriously having this conversation?"

"I just want you to be healthy."

"Well," I stated as I got up to rinse the mug, "unless you've had a vision of me dying from a lack of nutrients, I'm going to keep skipping breakfast."

"Not funny, Bella."

"I wasn't joking," I threw over my shoulder. Her mothering didn't really annoy me that much, and I realized that I actually enjoyed our bantering. Alice had slipped back into my life so effortlessly that it was almost difficult to remember she had ever left. Maybe I had missed her company more than I had known.

I cleared my throat again, seeking a casual tone as I spoke. "Where's Carlisle?"

"Somewhere outside," Alice answered. "He's coming back later."

I nodded, feeling more relieved than I should have. The strange dream kept lingering with me, no matter how hard I tried to get rid of it. I shook my head as the memory of his cool lips on my own flooded into my mind.

_Stop thinking about it!_

"Are you okay?" I heard Alice asking. "You look strange."

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly. "Just a headache."

Oh, the white lies we told others and ourselves when honesty was too much to ask.

I went back to my bedroom to get my bag, putting on my coat in the process. Meanwhile, Alice had put out the lights and was waiting by the door as I got back, wordlessly offering to accompany me to the bookstore.

As we walked through the park and watched the darkness disappearing into the dawning morning, I had an urge to confide in her, to tell her about the strange dreams I kept having of my mother and also about the unexpected ending of my latest dream. I wanted to ask her why I would suddenly dream about something like that. But in the end, I stayed silent, deciding it was inappropriate to talk to her about this. It was inappropriate to talk about this with anyone. It was inappropriate to _think _about it constantly, but apparently I couldn't help myself.

Sighing quietly, I suddenly found myself wanting to linger in the atmosphere of the dream. Everything about it had been so easy, so natural – almost instinctual. It almost seemed like a moment I hadn't lived yet, or a memory from a life I didn't have. For some reason, the thought reminded me of the moment two nights ago when I'd been taking a walk with Carlisle. I remembered the touch of his cold hand around my own and the strange feeling of familiarity when his fingers had grasped mine.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. Then I glanced at Alice, and she met my gaze with a smile.

"You're quiet this morning," she noted with a quirk of her brow. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, of course not," I answered, giving her a reassuring smile. Changing the subject, I asked if she had heard anything about Jasper.

"He hasn't found Edward, Rosalie and Emmett yet," she informed. "But he will. I updated him about their current location last night."

I nodded, inquiring if she had any other news concerning the situation, though I knew she probably didn't. But I asked anyway, receiving the answer I'd expected. No sign of Victoria or of that blonde woman she had seen in her vision a couple of days ago. I didn't know if I should have felt frustrated or relieved to learn that the situation was still the same.

Alice spent the whole day with me at the bookstore, disappearing among the shelves when a customer happened to come in. Her interest in books was rather slim, and that's why we spent most of the day just talking about everything and nothing at all. I expected her to get bored during the long hours, but for some reason she seemed completely contended, even happy, to spend her day with me.

"Bella?" she asked at one point after disappearing into the small backroom, probably checking if it needed tidying up. Alice was a little bit of a neat freak, I had noticed.

"Yeah?" I asked, lifting my gaze from the bookkeeping records I was studying.

She appeared behind the curtain that separated the small room from the store, a somewhat skew smile on her face. "Why do you have a man's jacket hanging in the coat rack?"

I quirked my brow at the question, still partly distracted. It took a moment for me to understand what she was talking about.

"Oh," I realized. "It's probably Adrian's. I knew he'd forget something."

Alice raised her brow, circling around the counter and sitting opposite of me.

"Adrian," she repeated the name, lifting her elbows on the counter and leaning her chin to her palms. "He's that friend of yours who moved away, right? Carlisle mentioned him."

I nodded, shutting the folder I kept all the receipts in and shoving it on the shelf under the counter.

"How long did you know him?" Alice asked, studying me with her golden brown eyes.

"A couple of years," I answered. "I met him soon after I moved here."

She nodded. "Are you sad that he left?" she asked cautiously, a compassionate look coming over her cherub face.

"A bit," I admitted. "But I'm also happy that he gets to do what he loves. I always knew he wanted to start traveling again."

It was silent for a while as I thought of him, wondering where he was now. Probably somewhere near the Equator if I knew him at all. The thought made me smile, and I realized that even though I missed his company, I was able to be genuinely pleased for him. Because I knew that wherever he now was, he was much happier than he ever could have been in Buffalo.

Alice raised her brow as she saw my smile. "He was just a friend to you, right?" she asked, a teasing grin coming over her face.

"Yes," I answered, stressing the word and tilting my head to the side. I wasn't lying – not really. It had been a long time since there had been something more than just mere friendship between Adrian and me.

Alice narrowed her eyes, staring at me without blinking.

"Well, and no," I eventually confessed, knowing that she'd squeeze the truth out of me sooner or later. It was somehow very appropriate to compare interacting with Alice to the moment when you were ripping off a bandaid. The quicker you did, the less it hurt. "We nearly got engaged. But it was long time ago – or at least it feels like it," I explained with a shrug, watching her reaction.

She looked surprised. "Wow. I had no idea," she said. "But why the past tense? What happened?"

I shrugged again, getting up and beginning to scan the shelves and making sure the books were in order. Sometimes the customers took them out to take a closer look at them and then placed them on the wrong shelf after they were done.

"Personality differences," I explained distractedly. "Friendship worked better for us – at least we didn't want to kill each other all the time."

"Oh," Alice said, giving me a sad smile as I peeked behind the shelf. She didn't say that she understood or that she knew how I must have felt like, and I didn't expect her to. Instead, she said something that capsulized my thoughts pretty well. "Sometimes people grow apart. It doesn't mean you can't be friends with them, or share parts of your life with them."

I agreed quietly, her words bringing Carlisle and Esme to my mind, and how they had grown apart, in a certain way. But they were still friends, family. Nothing could change that.

"In any case, I'm sorry to hear that it didn't work out," Alice continued, giving me a small smile.

"Don't be," I answered, plucking a book from the shelf and moving it to the correct place. "We're on good terms. We are on _better_ terms than when we were together," I jested, though I was mostly serious.

"It's good to hear that you haven't been afraid to meet new people," Alice murmured cautiously, causing me to emerge from the shelves again to give her a puzzled look.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

She looked slightly uncertain.

"During these past few years, there were many times when I wanted to break the promise I made to Edward and look for you, to search your future. To see how you were doing. I wanted to know if you were happy." She paused, glancing at her hands before looking at me again. "I guess I was worried about how Edward's actions affected you. I didn't want them to."

"Oh." I quirked my brow at her sudden outburst, leaning my shoulder against the wooden shelf as I pondered. "You were worried that he traumatized me, somehow?"

Alice shrugged, her eyes studying me.

Giving her a wry smile, I disappeared amongst the shelves again. "I suppose he could have," I mused, thinking about my view of the world a couple of months after Edward had left. Romance obviously hadn't been something I'd chased like so many others – I suppose I'd decided that it simply wasn't worth chasing. I hadn't been a typical young woman looking for love and waiting for the knight in a shining armor to arrive. Even with Edward, I had never consciously looked for a relationship or a person to fall in love with. It had just happened, like so many other things that come along in life. Why those things often tended to happen unexpectedly... that was a mystery to me.

With time, as my moments with Edward had become memories, more bittersweet than actually painful ones, my conscious efforts to stay away from romance and avoid relationships had been forgotten. Just like with everything else, time healed the wounds before they became scars. When I had come to Buffalo all that time ago, I hadn't been deliberately searching for someone to spend my life with, but it hadn't been something I'd been strongly against, either. And once again, just when I had least expected it, my paths had crossed with Adrian.

And I had to wonder: how many of the things we did and experienced were consciously decided, eventually leading us to those situations we found ourselves in? Were all the choices we made deliberate, carefully thought out and reasoned? Or was life a constant current of coincidences, accidents, moments that shouldn't have taken place?

At times I felt like we were all drifting, moving together with the waves and surges of the world, floating wherever the current happened to take us. The thought was somehow comforting. I knew that the direction of our lives wasn't always in our hands and sometimes we weren't asked before a decision was made. Who made those decisions in our behalf – that was something I did not know.

Placing another book on the right place, I emerged from the shelves and noticed that the afternoon was turning into an evening. I began to tidy up, idly thinking about Alice's earlier words as I routinely put aside the rest of the receipts and locked up the cash register.

"How is Edward, by the way?" I queried, voicing the question I had wanted to ask from Carlisle a couple of times. For some reason I had always decided not to, and I realized that maybe I hadn't been ready to hear the answer. Now I felt like I was ready, but I didn't know the reason behind the sudden feeling. I thought about that invisible line between readiness and unwillingness; I wondered what had made me cross it.

"He's alright," Alice answered after a moment of hesitation.

I gave her a nod, suddenly feeling awkward. Ignoring the unease, I sat down behind the counter opposite of her. "Even though I might not be horribly traumatized by him," I began, giving a soft laugh, "I almost feel obligated to ask if our relationship left a bad taste in _his_ mouth."

Alice hesitated again, but smiled all the while as she pondered my words. "It's not that you left a bad taste in his mouth," she began to explain, searching for words. "I admit he's stayed away from women ever since we left Forks, but that's how he's always been, even before he met you. There's nothing strange about it. He's always been a little bit of a loner, as I'm sure you remember."

I nodded, but couldn't help but wonder whether or not my impact on him had intensified his wish to seek solitude. I realized that I hoped it hadn't. Because I didn't want Edward to be lonely. I didn't want him to live through an eternity without love. Even though his actions had once hurt me deeply, I didn't want that kind of hardship for him. He didn't deserve it. And what came to me and him and the few short months we had spent together, experiencing the thrill of first love... I found myself thinking back those times with fondness. Even though it had ended the way it had, I still valued that short period of time in my life. I wouldn't be the person I was without those moments, and I certainly wouldn't have learned so much about myself. I'd have never come to Buffalo and found my own place in the world. The place I so liked.

I could only hope Edward would someday see the matter in a positive light as well.

"How do you feel about him?" Alice asked cautiously, drawing me away from my thoughts.

"I'm a little nervous if I happen to run into him during this little project of yours," I admitted, deciding to be honest. "But otherwise my feelings are pretty neutral when it comes to him. So I'm not planning on hitting on him or anything if that's what you're worried about," I jested, half-serious.

Alice gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I didn't mean for my question to sound that way," she said. "I just wondered if you feel uncomfortable talking about him. Or thinking about him."

I shrugged, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm not uncomfortable," I reponded, thinking of a way to explain my feelings. "I'm just a little reserved when I fathom the idea of seeing him again after all this time. I don't know if I will," I added, still unsure if the rest of the Cullens wanted anything to do with me, "but the idea confuses me. I'm not sure if I know how to be around him."

Alice nodded, seemingly understanding what I meant. "It might take time before he even considers coming here," she said, her words sounding nearly comforting. "He's pretty adamant about finding Victoria because he still believes she's got something to do with this."

"What do you believe?" I asked, wanting to hear her opinion.

She shook her head, an expression of frustration passing on her face. "I'm as confused as you are. But my instincts tell me that she's not responsible for the vision I keep having of you. I can't explain why I feel the way I do, and of course I could be wrong." She paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes and staring at the counter between us as if she could see the answers written on the blank surface of it. "And the vision of that blonde woman I had a couple of days ago," she continued. "I have a funny feeling about it. I'm sure she's got something to do with our situation because otherwise I wouldn't have seen her, but I just don't know how she fits in. It's frustraing."

"Have you seen her after the night we were in the park?" I asked.

Alice nodded an answer. "Twice. Her face is still just a blur."

I nodded, mulling over the her words as I retrieved my coat and began to put out the lights. During the past weeks, the situation hadn't made me awfully distressed, but now I began to feel more and more troubled by it. It was the uncertainty that worried me the most, and I simply couldn't understand why Alice's visions were so unclear and kept lacking the most important parts we needed to possess.

I asked her about it as we were making our way to my apartment in the darkness of the evening. She explained that her visions were subjective, mostly based on the decisions that were made, and apparently even the smallest of change in someone's mind could have an impact on the future.

"It's easier to predict the weather, for instance," she explained. "The weather conditions aren't tied to anyone's mind."

"Maybe the decision hasn't been made yet, then," I suggested, realizing that I was talking a little too casually about my possible death or some other situation that threatened me. "For argument's sake, let's say that it is Victoria who's behind the vision you keep having of me. Maybe she's been playing with the idea of avenging James' death all these years, but she just hasn't made a conscious decision to act yet – or_ how _to act_. _That'd explain why you had that vision but it'd also explain why it's so obscure."

Alice pondered for a while, cocking her head. "It's possible," she said, but didn't sound convinced. "But why would she be so indecisive?" she asked, glancing at me. "Why would she wait all these years before seeking you out and have her revenge? Why has she waited for so long? She has no reason to feel threatened or otherwise insecure. You're a human. It'd be easy for her to just come to you and - ,"

_Kill me_, I finished her sentence in my mind.

Alice's words died away, and she gave me an apologetic glance. I waved my hand at her, telling her that I wasn't upset about her frank words.

"Maybe she's under the impression that I've been in your protection all these years," I ruminated. "That's the impression she got in Forks. She might even believe that I became a vampire eventually, and that's why she's so unsure to take action."

Alice agreed that it was a possibility. She was silent then, long enough for me to feel the need to give her a curious glance.

"Speaking of becoming a vampire," she said eventually, noticing my gaze. There was no caution in her tone as she spoke; it puzzled me a little. "Do you still want it?"

Her question surprised me so efficiently that I stopped walking. I tried to figure out why she'd suddenly ask me that. It's not like she was going to offer to change me, and it's not I was asking for it. Because I wasn't. I had no reason to ask for it. And she shouldn't have any reasons to offer.

Her behaviour was a strange contrast compared to the careful way Carlisle spoke to me. At times he seemed almost timid if he happened to bring up subjects that could be sensitive to me. That caution had began to disappear as the time had passed and we had become more accustomed to each other's company, but at the beginning, I remembered the way he had been worrying over my possible discomfort after he had arrived to Buffalo to watch over me. I now felt wrong-footed by Alice's question, unable to form a complete thought, let alone an answer.

I began to walk again, meeting her eyes as I tried to summon the words to say something. She met my gaze boldly, her expression oddly serious as she waited for my answer. Almost like she had made a suggestion, and made it very seriously.

"I haven't really thought about it," I answered honestly. "It's something I left behind a long time ago. Sometimes I can't even believe how I once could have been so adamant about becoming a vampire. I can't understand that I fathomed the idea of giving up my future, my parents... everything. And do it so easily without a question."

Alice nodded, her smile suddenly a bit forced. I thought I saw disappointment in her eyes, but I couldn't be sure. But if it was disappointment, I had to wonder the reason behind it. Had she expected – or hoped – a different answer?

Once again I was faced with the question I was still too afraid to ask; what would happen once the situation was over and I was safe? What did _Alice_ expect to happen? Suddenly I wanted to ask her that, to know what she saw in our future. Mine and theirs.

"You're quiet," I said eventually when she had been silent for full two minutes. It was so unlike her to cease communicating so suddenly. "Did my words upset you?" I asked. "I didn't mean to sound so... rejective. I only meant that my views have changed with time, and now I'm able to see things I refused to even consider back then."

She nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. "I understand that," she said, looking ahead of her as we turned to the dark tree alley that lead to my apartment. "I only want you to know how much I wanted you to be one of us. On that day when we left Forks... I felt like I lost a friend, but also a sister." She paused, glancing at me. I was so taken aback by her sudden confession that I couldn't utter a word.

"I understand that it might be difficult for you to understand," she continued softly. "You were left under the impression that were didn't care about you. It changes the way you feel about us, I'm sure."

"Not that much," I admitted. "Not anymore, at least. When Carlisle told me about the real reason why you left... I guess I've managed to get some new perspective after he told me. Of course it was difficult to comprehend it at first, since I had believed everything to be differently all these years."

Alice nodded again, continuing her walking. I fell into step beside her, digging out my keys as we neared my apartment. I was tempted to say something more, to pelt her with dozens of questions. The uncertainty that had been conquering me during these past weeks was suddenly too much and began to feel like a burden, and I felt pure anguish for not knowing what was going to happen in the future. How would my path crossing with the Cullens change my life, our life? Mine and theirs?

Or would it change anything at all?

That night, my questions and thoughts were shaped into restless dreams. I saw it all in my mind's eye clearly, brightly; I was standing at the beginning of a road, raising my hand as a farewell gesture. At the other end of the road, I saw a forest, dark and shadowed, far away beyond my reach. It was a perfect duplicate of the woods behind Charlie's house in Forks, and sudden nostaglia filled me as I was reminded of the place that had once been my home.

I searched the scenery with my eyes. My hand was still frozen in the air, giving goodbyes without my consent. My mind was unable to grasp the situation, and I tried to bring myself to the present moment. I struggled to lower my hand, but it refused to abort the farewells. I searched the end of the road where the dark forest awaited, my eyes trying to distinguish the blurry figures moving towards the trees.

This time it wasn't just Edward disappearing among the shadows, among the jungle of ferns and pine trees. It was all of them. And I watched with blurry eyes as their forms began to disappear, one by one, swallowed by the darkness.

For some reason, I didn't know why, one of them stopped just before disappearing into the greenery. I was very conscious of the thundering heartbeat in my ears as I saw Carlisle turning around, casting me a look that was questioning. It was like he was waiting for me to do or say something – to give an answer to a question I hadn't heard. My lips tried to form that answer, but no words came out. I simply had none to give.

There was disappointment in Carlisle's eyes, but also something that resembled acceptance. He gave me one slow nod before turning around and slowly walking away.

The shout died on my lips before I even managed to form it completely. I searched the dark greenery with my gaze, trying to distinguish the receding forms until my eyes began to hurt. It was then when I noticed that instead of standing up, I was lying down, and the dark woods and the endless haze of green had changed into rectangular shapes and different tones of grey.

I blinked in the lack of light, trying to get used to the darkness of my bedroom. I knew it still had to be early, but nonetheless I began to sit up, trying to untangle myself from the sheets that were wrapped around me like swaddling clothes. After washing my face with freezing cold water, I leaned against the sink and watched my tired appearance from the mirror.

With dark circles rimming my eyes and the haze of sleep still clouding my vision, I made my way back to my bedroom and began to dress.

Silently cursing the strange dreams I kept having, I sauntered to the living room, deciding to talk to Alice about them. Maybe she knew what they meant; maybe she could put to words everything that was troubling me and eating away the peace I'd once had within myself.

But Alice wasn't in the living room like she had been when I had gone to bed last night. Instead, I saw Carlisle standing by the window, turning to me as I appeared from the shadows of the hallway. I was torn between relief and something else as I saw him. Relief, because I hadn't seen him at all yesterday, and truthfully, I had begun to worry about his whereabouts.

And what came to that something else... I didn't know what it was, but it had something to do with the feeling that was born from the look of disappointment in his eyes before he had disappeared into the woods in my dream. And I tried to prevent more images from arising to my mind; of the blue moonlight and the waves crashing to the shore as I had stepped into his embrace... But I wasn't succesfull.

"_It is relieving to learn that certain things won't change," _he had said.

_"__Nothing really stays the same when you think about it,__"_ I had answered.

_"_Bella."__ I closed my eyes, remembering the sound of his soft whisper._ "___You are not like most people."__

I shook my head, realizing I had been awfully silent for a long time. Telling myself that I shouldn't let dreams affect me this way and therefore cause me to act like an idiot, I walked over to the kitchen counter to have a glass of water.

"Morning," I said, suddenly careful not to look at him.

Carlisle answered my greeting quietly. "You're up early," he noted, and I could feel his eyes studying me.

"Couldn't sleep," I answered as casually as I could. The water tasted stale; I should have let it run before filling the glass. I cleared my throat, turning to him before he could sense that I was avoiding looking at him. "Did Alice already leave?"

"She asked me to tell you that she has a meeting with a mountain lion," Carlisle answered with a small smile.

"Oh." I smiled at his small jest, trying to behave normally. But the harder I tried, the more it showed, and eventually Carlisle began to frown as I tried to focus on making a cup of coffee. I tried to keep myself busy, hoping that it would make the cloud of uncertainty disappear. Hoping that it would hide the sudden trembling of my hands.

"Is everything alright?" Carlisle asked as I hustled around the living room, idly trying to remember if I had left my laptop at the bookstore last night.

"Of course," I answered, flashing him a smile that was a little too perky. An image of him standing in the blue moonlight hit me again, the memory of the softness of his lips against mine making the heart thunder in my chest.

__Jesus___,_ I reproached myself_. ___Stop thinking about it!__

Carlisle was silent as I tried to calm myself down inwardly, and I pretended to be impatient as I watched the coffee dribbling into the pot. The tips of my fingers drummed against the counter as I ventured to take a quick glance at him. He was still looking outside through the window, giving me a brief opportunity to watch him.

As my eyes sweeped his tall form, I allowed myself a moment to wonder the reason for my bizarre dreams. Especially the first one. I couldn't see why I had suddenly dreamed about kissing him. During these past few weeks, Carlisle had begun to feel like a friend to me. We had shared thoughts, opinions, memories and many other things with each other. And after Adrian had left, he had come to see me to make sure that I was all right, knowing how much his departure would affect me. He had actually known it better than me.

All those moments were something you might share with a friend. So why would my subconscious suddenly make a jump into something so intimate, something that was far from friendly?

Of course Carlisle had all those qualities I was bound to admire. He was kind and honest, compassionate and patient. That man of flesh and blood who had lived time and time ago and had eventually been challenged by the cruelty of nature... he was still there. Not even a trial such as that had managed to drown his character. And I was drawn to that character, to that goodness that made him who he was. The man standing by the window was more human than many others I had met along the years.

But was I allowed to be drawn to him? _Was _I drawn to him?

What if I was?

His golden eyes turned to me, then. I lost the opportunity to look away as my eyes lingered on him for a while too long. He met my gaze and I froze, immobilized by the recent realization.

I wrenched my eyes away, feeling self-conscious, confused, thrilled and even afraid in a peculiar way, all those things at the same time. Suddenly I just wanted to turn back time, to return to the day before yesterday when everything had been normal. When my mind hadn't managed to make everything so complicated.

Carlisle quirked his brow at me, oblivious of the sudden battle inside my heart. Oblivious. I realized I had to keep it that way.

I cleared my throat again, feeling like I had done it a million times already. Pouring myself some coffee, I went to sit down on the couch, giving him a look that was curious. Just curious. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Where were you yesterday?" I queried, wondering if his temporary absence had something to do with the situation.

Carlisle sat opposite of me. "Nowhere in particular," he answered. "I circled around the city for a couple of hours, wanting to make sure there were no foreign scents to be found." A somehwhat playful smile quirked the other side of his mouth, then. "And I thought that perhaps you wish to spent the entire day with Alice, for a change. I am sure my constant presence is becoming rather tiring for you."

"Of course not," I said before I managed to stop myself. "I love your company. I really do."

He looked pleased, smiling politely. "I'm glad to hear that, Bella. I adore your company as well."

I had to look away from his eyes. Staring at the dark surface of the coffee in the cup, I had to wonder if he said that only out of courtesy. The battle between my heart and mind kept raging, refusing to cease, especially when I heard his voice again.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" he asked again. "You seem troubled."

I lifted my gaze to meet his; there was worry in his eyes.

"Of course," I answered, shrugging. The lie leaving my lips was quick but believable. "I guess I just haven't woken up properly yet."

Carlisle hesitated, linking his fingers and leaning his elbows to his knees. "You were restless when you were sleeping," he stated, suddenly studying me very carefully. "Is something troubling you?"

I quirked my brow, wondering if I had been talking in my sleep. An image of the dense forest rose into my mind, of Carlisle's disappointed expression as he had turned away and left. Left after receiving no answer to his question, to the question I still didn't know. To the question that had somehow been very important.

I was silent for a moment too long. A frown creased Carlisle's brow as he searched my face.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

I lowered my coffee on the small table between us, torn between answering and staying silent. I didn't even know how to answer his question. I still wasn't sure what was wrong. I still didn't know what bothered me the most right now.

"It was just a dream that I had," I answered eventually, deciding to be partly honest. The memory of the shadow of disappointment in his eyes haunted me. "Or a nightmare, more likely."

Carlisle narrowed his eyes, watching me with a pondering expression on his face. "What was this nightmare about?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"Oh, nothing really," I answered, brushing it off and trying to smile. "It was rather silly. It didn't really make much sense, to be honest."

Apparently he sensed my reluctance to talk about it. I could see that he was tempted to ask more, but he stayed silent, watching me closely for a while.

"If you wish you talk about it later," he said then, very quietly, "you should know that I'm here to listen. If there is anything burdening your mind, anything at all, you can tell me about it. I hope you know that."

His words struck me dumb for a while, so touched I was by them. Trying to concentrate on breathing, I nodded and offered him a small smile that I hoped to be serene. "Thank you. That's... very sweet of you."

He answered my smile, holding my gaze for a while longer. It was me who looked away first. The action was easy and difficult at the same time. Easy, because the battle inside my heart quieted, but didn't cease completely. It only burned with a smaller flame.

And as for the difficult... That smaller flame, the more innocent one, was more scorching; more painful. And somehow, I realized, that I preferred the bigger flames - the wild, uncontrollable ones. Those that flared everytime our eyes met.

I swallowed the thoughts until the flame was only a spark. Then I took a deep breath, smothering the fire completely. After that, all that was left were the secretly smoldering embers.

Reaching out for the book that sat on the coffee table between us, I opened it and browsed through it until finding the page where I'd left off. I didn't know if I'd taken the book to distract myself or to have something to do with my hands. I felt wired, unable to sit still. It was a strange state to be in so early in the morning.

I heard Carlisle clearing his throat, and I glanced up to see him narrowing his eyes and reading the backcover of the book. He gave me a smile as he noticed I was watching him.

"What is the book about?" he asked.

I quirked my brow teasinly, partly grinning. "You read the back cover. Isn't it all there?"

A curious expression came over his face; it was the closest I'd seen him come to roll his eyes.

"As an owner of a bookstore you might agree with me when I say that the back cover rarely gives you the right impression about the book," he said with a smile.

"That's why you have to read it," I quipped, smiling back. "And that's why people say: don't judge the book by its cover."

He gave a soft laugh, leaning slightly forward until his elbows touched his knees. I noticed that he was still looking at me, and I cleared my throat, trying to end the silence. Because the silence fed the flames; it was like fuel to the fire I wanted to keep quenched.

"The book is about this woman," I began, deciding to answer his query. "She has a twisted understanding of things."

Carlisle quirked his brow, looking intrigued. "Such as?"

"Life in general," I answered, shrugging. "And love. Especially that. She thinks that love should always be this mind-blowing thing. That it should be astonishing and overwhelming and..." I gestured with my hand, making a wide arch in the air as I searched for words. "Well, you know. Something that sweeps you off your feet in an instant."

A partly amused smile formed on his lips. "Isn't love usually like that?" he pointed out.

"Sure," I admitted, realizing that our conversation was heading to a dangerous zone. "I guess it can be that way for some people. But this woman is way too... _strict_ about it. She has this over-exaggerated impression about love and romance, and especially about _falling_ in love. She keeps waiting for this perfect person to come along and magically steal her heart in one second and make everything better. She doesn't realize that sometimes love can sneak up on you. And therefore she flagrantly fails to see that there already is someone in her life, someone who could fill every requirement she might ever possibly set. She's clearly destined to be with that person, but she fails to notice him just because the ground didn't begin to shake beneath her feet in that instant when she met him. She doesn't realize that there might not be such a thing as love at first sight, and she keeps stubbornly waiting for it. And by doing that, she misses the only opportunity that is just right for her. It's so frustrating." I frowned at the book, pursing up my lips in disapproval.

Carlisle gave another soft laugh, and I wondered if it amused him that I felt so strongly about a fictional story.

"So, by being too demanding and not realizing that falling in love takes time, she might lose her chance to be able to love at all?" he asked.

"In a nutshell," I answered, nodding. "She's so _blind._ If she won't open her eyes soon, I swear I'll burn this book."

Carlisle smiled. I glanced down at the pages, feeling a blush creeping to my cheeks.

"You think I'm being silly," I murmured. "I mean, I get it. It's only a book."

"It's never only a book, Bella," he disagreed, chasing away my embarrassment. "In fact, every book is an experience that we should all learn something from."

Our eyes met; the embers exploded into flames again. They should have burned me, scorched me to ashes, but I only felt curiously warm. Inside, outside. Everywhere.

"So," he murmured eventually, a smile still tugging at his lips. "I gather from your earlier words that love at first sight is something you might not believe in."

I shrugged, trying to think of a good way to explain myself. "It's not that I would absolutely deny its existence," I mused. "I don't have the right to say that something doesn't exist just because it seems unsual to me." I paused, giving him a wry smile. "And actually, I've begun to wonder if it's something that happens more likely among vampires than humans."

Carlisle looked pondering. "You're referring to the moment when a vampire encounters his mate."

I nodded. "Yeah. I think the concept of love at first sight describes that moment quite well."

"It does," he agreed.

Staying silent for a while, I leaned my head against the back of the couch. My fingers began to play with the corners of the pages. My books were always dog-eared; it was a wonder I managed to keep the books in the store neat enough to sell them.

"It's funny," I murmured after a while, still pondering our conversation. "I've always thought that you have to know someone from top to bottom in order to love them fully. Why is it then, that vampires can form something so deep and intense in one single moment?"

A small frown furrowed Carlisle's brow as he thought of my question. "I do not know how to answer that," he admitted, speaking quietly. "Maybe no one can. Sometimes nature and its quirks are impossible to understand. It's curious how so many things take place in that one instant when a vampire sees their mate. The one they've been destined for all along. I've been told that it is not just about the feelings of affection that begin to arouse in that moment – that there are many other things involved as well. Such as the desire to protect and keep him or her safe, no matter what the cost. I've also been told that being separated from your mate for a long period of time is nearly agonizing. And if the worst happens, and a vampire loses his mate... there's no way to recover from it. A part of you dies with your mate. A very vital part." He paused for a while, his eyes staring at the coffee table between us. "There's almost something primitive about it," he mused. "About all if it. It's something that runs deep in every vampire, but it awakens only when you encounter your mate."

"Alice compared it to the instinct when a mother protects her child," I remembered.

Carlisle nodded. There was a shadow in his eyes, something I'd never seen before. It was probably our conversation that had caused it. And I wondered; did he crave for those things? Did he crave for that one short moment that could possibly take place someday, that moment when everything would change as he'd lay his eyes on someone who was just like him? Someone who was as cold as ice, as pale as snow, as beautiful as a divinity? Someone who was a mirror to his soul, someone who was destined to stand by his side for an eternity?

Something within me fractured, broke down to tiny pieces. It was the first time in a long time when I felt somehow damaged, less whole_, _and it made me reproach myself. Because did the sudden ache in my heart mean that I didn't want those things to him? Did I not want him to be happy, to find the one he was supposed to be with? Did I not want that shadow in his eyes to disappear, to be chased away by someone who was an equal to him, someone who possessed the same inner spirit and integrity?

Carlisle was watching me, then. I met his eyes, and somehow I managed to look past the dull ache somewhere within me and answer myself: yes, I did want those things to him. Because Carlisle deserved it. He deserved all the good things the universe had to offer. He had been alone for so long, walking among humans and knowing that every one of them would eventually fade away, disappear among the seconds and years and centuries; knowing that even after all that, he'd still be here. More or less alone.

Lost in my thoughts, I closed the book in my hands, trailing my fingers along the dog-eared corners. After placing the it back on the table, I noticed that Carlisle was still watching me. His voice was quiet as he spoke.

"I hope she comes to her senses," he said, nodding towards the book. "She shouldn't live in dreams at the expense of the present moment. I hope she awokes before it's too late, and stops for a moment to look around her."

I didn't know why, but for the shortest of moments I felt oddly startled by his quiet words.

"I hope so too," I answered, whispering. For some reason, certain moments needed whispers instead of loud words. Sudden wistfulness filled me after saying it. There was little reason for the feeling, I realized, but that's how I felt nonetheless.

Sometimes feelings didn't need any reasons to be born, I suppose. They needed no justifications. They just appeared when you least expected it. They snuck up on you, arriving with soundless steps and catching you off guard without a warning. Or maybe it happened only to those who wandered around with blinders on – to those who weren't paying attention. I thought about the woman in the book, and I wondered how many of her kind there were in the world. Walking with blinders on, failing to see the people around her. People who could end up being very important if only she managed to see them, to acknowledge their presence.

Was I that woman? Had I not been paying attention?

Suddenly I was afraid to look up from my hands. Because the blinders had been taken away. Because without them, I might suddenly see.

"Very often people have the tendency to realize what is right for them at the last very last moment," I heard Carlisle continuing.

"It's a pity," I agreed quietly, eventually looking up at him. I noticed that there was a smile on my lips, a smile I hadn't summoned. It puzzled me, that smile. "But maybe they learn someday."

"Maybe," he agreed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but for some reason he hesitated and stayed silent.

The urge to know what he had been about to say was suddenly compelling; I had to wonder why he had settled for silence instead of speaking. Why was it, that nearly all of us tended to act such way every now and then? Our lips opened to release a flood of words, only to find that something dammed the stream.

I suppose we all had those dams, those barriers that prevented us from speaking. I wondered if we created them ourselves, built them up piece by piece, though we sometimes didn't even have anything to build them with. Sometimes they were just born of excuses, those dams, born of reasons that seemed believable to us at the time. I wondered how long it'd take for the flow to grow strong enough to break the dam. To make it overflow, if needed.

My own barrier wasn't put to test yet. Not even when the sun began to rise behind the thick veil of clouds, bringing the gray daylight with it. Not even when I emerged from my bedroom and saw Carlisle waiting for me by the door, holding my coat open for me. And not even when I slipped my arms through the sleeves, feeling his hands brushing against my shoulders ever so slightly.

Because my dam had only begun to build itself. Had I begun to create it myself, or was it the excuses, the reasons more or less believable, that were building it – I didn't know. What I did know was that I detested that barrier, already at the early stages of it.

Because I knew; I didn't want to drown in my flood of words; I didn't want to trap myself in.

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**AN: **Thank you so much for your reviews! Your encouragements are important and help me come back if I'm having hard time writing. It's very common for anyone to exprience a writer's block, and this particular nuisance has visited me several times during this fall. Luckily, it always passess. For those who struggle with the same problem: allow yourself to get a break from writing. Take a day off from it, take two days - take a whole month if it feels right. But eventually, remember to open your computer again and sit down. Don't be afraid to continue where you left off. You don't have to force yourself to write, but do give yourself a little kick in the butt because sometimes it's needed. This helps me. _Especially_ the kicking.

I'm sure you have noticed by now that in my story, the concept of 'mate' is deeper than usually in the Twilight Universe. Instead of just being a life partner, I wanted the whole mate thing to be somehow more significant and radical than usually and almost resemble werewolf imprinting.

Getting into Bella's head in this chapter was both easy and hard. I think she's starting to realize that there is something awakening inside her, something she's been aware of a long time but still struggles to admit to herself. It's funny how she despairs about the woman in that book she's reading, saying that she's blind and failing to see what's around her, when actually she herself might be the one's who's being blind.

Let me know what you think!


	10. The Twilight, The Silence, And Us

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

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**_"Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens._**

**_The sleeper must awaken."  
_**

\- Frank Herbert -

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**_The Twilight, The Silence, And Us_**

"What are you doing on Saturday?"

Alice's sing-song voice resonated in the kitchen, momentarily disturbing my focus. My eyes sweeped across the laptop screen two more times, and after that I quirked my brow, giving her a distracted glance. "Hmm?"

An exasperated sigh left her lips. She moved closer to me, hopping to sit on the kitchen counter behind my back. I tried to ignore her scrutiny as she peeked over my shoulder, watching me scribbling down everything that got my interest. I was checking out the list of recently released books, writing down the names of the ones I considered ordering. It was Christmas in a couple of weeks, obviously the busiest time of year in the bookstore, and I wanted the shelves to be fully stocked. Classics were always in demand, but I also wanted to have something new in my selection.

"I asked about your plans for this weekend," Alice repeated, still staring over my shoulder and reading the list I was making. "I wanted to know what you're doing on Saturday."

Only the sound of my pen scribbling against the paper could be heard for a while as I wrote down another title and shrugged. "Laundry," I answered, only half-serious. I just wanted to know what she had in mind before giving her an honest answer. With Alice, you always had to have a backdoor.

Not that it always helped.

"Wrong answer," she stated. I could hear the smile in her voice. "Because you're going to come and see our place."

Feigning indifference was suddenly hard. She was asking me to come to see their house? Why?

Though I tried to prevent it from happening, my eyes left the laptop screen to see Carlisle's expression. He was sitting in the armchair a few yards away, a huge book in his lap. It was the heaviest volume he had managed to find from my small library, although I was pretty sure it wasn't the size that had appealed to him. It was probably the age, because it looked pretty old and worn. I'd read most of the books in my library, but this was one of the exceptions. I wondered what the book was about – Carlisle had seemed very intrigued when he had found it.

He met my glance as I looked his way. He closed the book, placing it on the coffee table in front of him. He was suddenly smiling, exchanging a look with Alice.

"It'd be wonderful if you came," he said to me. "We've been meaning to invite you there for quite some time."

I quirked my brow at his words, trying to stifle the sensation of surprise somewhere inside me. I didn't know why I hesitated, and I certainly didn't know why the situation felt so surprising. Visiting their current home just felt strange – it was almost like we were crossing some invisible line. What lied behind that line, and what came from crossing it... I did not know.

"Well, I don't know..." I began, hearing Alice dropping herself down from the counter and coming to stand in front of me on the other side of the table. She casted me a look that was more or less stern.

"You will come," she stated. "It's decided."

I shrugged my shoulders and had a sudden urge to feel eager about their request, but at the same time I felt like I should contain that eagerness. "Okay. I guess I will, then," I answered, my silence beginning to sound rather rude.

Carlisle was smiling warmly at me, but I could see it from his eyes that he had picked up my hesitation. I turned to the laptop screen again, trying to get something else to think about.

Alice had managed to snatch my little checklist when I wasn't paying attention, and now she was going over it, adding a small mark here and there with my pen.

"This book won't sell," she informed me, tapping one of the names I had written down. "Don't order it. Well, at least not too many copies."

I gave her a look that was partly incredulous, partly miffed. "But the writer of this book is very popular," I protested. Alice only shrugged, stating that she had scanned the future to know whether or not the customers would be interested in it.

"That one will sell," she pointed at one of the names. "And that one."

I sighed, leaning my elbows against the table and glaring at her. "Way to take the fun out of it, Alice," I grumbled.

"You'll thank me later," she insisted. "And besides, it won't be too much fun if you go bankrupt just because you order a pile of books no one will buy."

"That's beside the point," I tried to explain. "I'm not trying to get rich with this thing or anything. If there will be even one person interested in a certain book, I will order it."

Alice frowned. "That's just bad business."

"It's not about business," I declared, rereading the name of the book she had claimed wouldn't sell. "Okay. For instance, how many people do you see buying this one?" I queried.

She frowned, closing her eyes after rolling them towards the roof. "Three," she answered. "Maybe four."

"That is fine. I'll just order four."

Apparently she wasn't ready to understand the landscape of my soul when it came to books and reading – not that I'd expected her to. She rolled her eyes again, possibly thinking that my efforts were futile. Maybe they were, at least when it came to making money, but that wasn't the most important thing to me. What was more important was that I managed to make someone happy by having a book in my selection that this person was looking for.

Alice sighed rather audibly as I wrote down the number. I ignored her attitude, nodding my head towards Carlisle.

"Carlisle knows what I mean," I stated, earning a swift smile from him.

"Of course he knows," Alice muttered under her breath, loudly enough for me to hear. "You two are like carved out of the same wood. Or torn from the same page, more likely," she corrected. Then she gave me a wink, and not at all a subtle one.

Her words, not to mention her wink, confused me so efficiently that I had to duck my head to hide the blush creeping to my cheeks.

I heard Carlisle clearing his throat. When I heard him getting up from the chair, I ventured to look at him. There was a pondering expression on his face, and he was gazing down at the floor as though he were deep in thought. Then he seemed to return to the present moment, giving Alice a quick glance before turning to me.

"I should get going," he said softly.

I quirked my brow at his words, ignoring the sudden disappointment I felt. Maybe he noticed my reaction, because he quickly explained the reason for his leaving, telling me that he had promised to meet Jasper in a few moments.

"Jasper's back?" I asked, looking Alice's way. She hadn't told me about his return; I wondered if he had managed to find Edward and the others.

"He came back last night," Alice explained. As my mind was only forming the question, she was already answering it. "He found Emmett, Rosalie and Edward. They agreed that we should focus on something else rather than waste our energy on Victoria since there doesn't seem to be any sign of her. Edward was a little harder to convince, though."

"Are they coming here?" I asked.

"Rosalie and Emmett are indecisive," she answered. "They'll probably go to Alaska to see Esme and Miguel."

"What about Edward?" Carlisle asked. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who wasn't completely up to date about the situation.

"He hasn't decided yet," Alice answered. "I'm not sure whether or not he comes here." She gave me a swift look, causing me to cross my arms and lean against the back of the chair as I gazed at her.

"Is he staying away because of me?" I asked, closing the laptop lid. The quiet humming ceased as the laptop went to sleep mode, causing the room to be unnaturally silent.

Alice drew in a quiet breath, hesitating. "It's not that he doesn't want to see you," she explained. "He's just not sure if you want to see _him_."

I probed my feelings after hearing her words, unsure of what to say. I didn't absolutely hate the idea of seeing Edward – I just thought that it'd be weird to be in his company again. And I also hesitated because I didn't know what he was thinking about me. He had removed himself from my life because he had wanted to protect me. He had lied to me in order to do that, and even more than that; he had gone great lengths to ensure that I was hurt enough to believe he didn't love me. All that, just to keep me safe.

It was rather ironic that despite his actions, I still wasn't safe enough. Even after all that had been said and done, their world had found me again. I was years away from the time when I had gotten to know the Cullens, thousands of miles away from the place where I had danced along the frail line between normality and something that was supernatural. Something that hadn't been meant for my eyes to see and my ears to hear.

But I had heard and seen, and that's why I was here again. Still not safe, still swaying on the borders between my world and theirs. A quiet voice, one that I couldn't quite silence, told me that maybe I was here because I was supposed to. That maybe their world had found me eight years ago because it was supposed to find me. And maybe it had found me again now, eight years later, for that very same reason.

I didn't know how to relate to the sudden thought. Therefore I pushed it aside, deciding to return to it once I was ready to consider it. _If_ I was ready to consider it.

The silence of the room pulled me from my ponderings. The two vampires with butterscotch eyes were looking at me, waiting for me to react to Alice words. I struggled to remember what she had said, and when I did, I struggled to put my feelings to words.

"I have nothing against Edward coming here," I assured, deciding to be honest. "But if it makes him uncomfortable to see me again, I totally understand." I looked from Alice to Carlisle, watching their reactions. "It's his decision. Whether or not he wants to come here."

"It's also yours," Carlisle pointed out quietly.

I knew what was on his mind. He was remembering the conversation we'd had in the park soon after he had come to Buffalo. It was probably my revelation about Edward's harsh goodbyes that now shadowed his thoughts. He probably still worried that I wasn't beyond the hurt Edward's words had once caused. Maybe he thought I hadn't forgiven him completely. It made me wonder if I had; it made me wonder if there was a difference between acceptance and forgiveness. And if there was, what was that difference? Didn't they both demand certain things from you, things that were so alike?

"He doesn't need to stay away because of me," I assured. "So if you hear from him, tell him that he can do whatever feels right for him." I wondered when I had become such a diplomat. Or maybe I had always been one. After all, living with Renée for several years had demanded that quality from me time to time.

Alice and Carlisle nodded at my words after exchanging a swift look with each other. Soon Carlisle turned to leave, bidding me goodnight before walking to the door. My eyes creeped towards the huge book he had abandoned on the coffee table, and I nearly told him that he could take it with him if he wanted; he had seemed to be so intrigued by it. But I bit back the words, idly thinking that if he left it here, he'd have a proper reason to come back to finish it.

I kicked myself inwardly after finishing the quiet thought, and raised my hand as he turned around on the threshold. He gave me a wordless nod before disappearing into the darkness.

Casual words of conversation accompanied my evening rituals as I made myself tea and something to eat, all the while listening to Alice's babbling. I regarded her with my gaze as I nibbled my sandwich, waiting until she fell silent again. She quirked her brow at me as she watched me eating, a frown appearing to her face.

"What's on your mind?" she asked. "You look strange."

I sipped my tea, wrapping my fingers around the warm mug. "I was thinking about Edward, actually," I admitted, earning another eyebrow quirk from her. "What is he thinking about me, exactly?" I asked, straightforward. "When Carlisle came to Buffalo, he told me that Edward didn't like the idea of you contacting me."

"He didn't want us to disturb your life," Alice explained. "But your safety weighed more on the scale, obviously, and he wasn't against our plan to come and protect you." She paused, pondering a moment. "He was elsewhere at the time when I had that vision of you for the first time. He did bring his opinion to our knowledge afterwards, however, saying that we should have been able to handle the situation without informing you at all. Apparently it would have been better that way," she muttered.

"Did you consider it?" I asked. "Keeping me in the dark?"

She hesitated for a moment, eventually nodding. "Of couse we did. It felt so wrong to disturb you after all this time. But it also felt wrong to hide something like this from you. Carlisle agreed, and so did Emmett and Rosalie."

My brow rose. "Even Rosalie?" I asked, incredulous. She had never liked me that much, and that's why Alice's words surprised me.

She smiled at my dubious expression. "There are so many things you don't know about Rosalie," she said. "It's too bad you never had the chance to get to know her better."

"I guess I was a little afraid to get to know her better," I admitted with a laugh. "I always thought she hated me."

"She didn't," Alice assured. "She _doesn't_." I could see she was tempted to say something more, but eventually she shook her head, continuing where she had left off. "And so we made the decision to inform you about what's going on," she finished. An unsure expression passed on her face, a shadow of it lingering as she spoke the next words. "You told me some time ago that if you had been able to decide, you'd have rather known about the situation than been oblivious of it. Do you still feel that way?"

"I do," I answered, wondering why the question was so easy to answer - wondering why all the stress and worry their arrival had caused me didn't seem to matter to me at all.

I glanced up from my mug, studying Alice's face and thinking about her earlier words about Edward and his opinions. "I guess eight years haven't changed his way of thinking that much," I murmured. "Considering the way he still feels the need to shield me from everything."

Alice smiled wryly. "Edward's pretty much the same," she admitted. "Overprotective and stubborn. He doesn't even know the word change."

I snorted softly. Studying her expression, I suddenly tried to see if there was more to her words. If Edward had stayed the same all these years, did it mean that his feelings for me had remained unaltered as well? I didn't know what to think of it if that was the case. And that caused me to wonder if I had made a mistake by saying that he could come here if he felt like it – I was practically twisting a knife in an old wound. Not in mine, but his. I didn't want the situation to get more complicated than it was.

Eventually I just asked Alice about it, trusting that she'd tell me the truth.

"I'm not entirely sure about his feelings for you," she answered, straightforward. "He doesn't really talk about that stuff with us. Not even with me."

That sounded strange, because I remembered Edward and Alice to be very close. But I decided not to comment, only nodding at her words and staying silent for a moment as I mulled over what she had said.

"He once told me that a human mind is like a sieve," I revealed. "That time heals all the wounds." Smiling wryly, I lifted my gaze from the table top. "I didn't believe him when he said that, but eventually I learned that he was quite right about it. I wonder if it's been the same for him." I paused, giving her a small smile. "Out of sight, out of mind. I guess that phrase is more valid than one would think. I don't know if it applies to both humans and vampires."

Alice smiled; there was a sad tone to it. "I'm sure he still cares about you," she said quietly, pondering. "That never changed, as you now know."

I nodded again. "Yeah."

Even though I hadn't gotten a clear answer to my question, I suddenly felt oddly peaceful. It was no use to fret over something I had no chance to influence. And after all, I didn't even know if Edward was going to come here. Hence there was a chance that stressing about his possible feelings for me was a waste of time because I didn't even know if I could ever have the chance to find out about it.

And even if he happened to come here someday, I knew where I stood. I knew I wasn't the girl he had once fallen in love with, and once he saw that the young, teenage girl he had once been so infatuated with no longer existed... well, maybe it'd something that could help him move on. Because that's what I wished to happen. That we'd move on from the things that were behind us. I didn't want my mutual past with Edward to weigh him down like a burden. I didn't want him to remember the sadness and regret that came from the short period of time that we spent together. Now when I knew about the motives behind his departure, that leaving Forks hadn't been as easy for him as he had once made it sound, I was sure that he also had to have that; sadness and regret.

I knew the place where I stood when it came to him. And I wished that someday he'd find his own place to stand. It wasn't beside me, like I had once thought. Like I had once hoped. It was somewhere else, and I hoped he'd find it.

The rest of the week passed by in busy blur of customers and books. It wasn't difficult to notice that Christmas was nearing. That particular holiday always caused people to get on the move, and I was pleased to notice that the classic and simple gift of words seemed to hold its place among people. Despite the internet, e-books and other modern inventions, the old-fashioned book was something that seemed to be on the gift lists of many. I didn't complain – a small upswing in my economy was welcome.

Days passed me by like hours, and before I even knew it, it was Saturday. I closed the bookstore early in the afternoon, noticing that it wasn't only the Saturday that had arrived inconspicuously, almost stealthily. As I stepped outside to lock the door behind me, instead of the bare and grey pavement, there was a thin layer of snow beneath my feet.

I spent a moment to curse the sneakers I'd chosen to wear this morning, thinking that hiking boots would have been more suitable. I hadn't followed weather forecasts for a while, and that's why the sudden change of weather had caught me off guard. Even after years of living in Buffalo, I still hadn't gotten used to the idea of snow coming so early. Well, early for someone who had lived most of her life in Arizona where snow practically didn't exist.

I forgot the momentary chagrin as I made my way to the park, admiring the pure white veil covering the trees and frozen lawns. The cold air in my lungs was crisp and fresh, efficiently enhancing my mood. As much as I enjoyed spending my days at the store, sitting behind the counter or unloading a box of books I couldn't wait to open, I had to admit that it was my favorite moment of the week, right then and there; to walk through the white park and feel the cold air against my skin. To know that another season was ending, and another one was about to begin. For some odd reason, that short moment in between was the most charming one. The moment when the winter hadn't yet arrived, and the fall hadn't yet departed.

When I got home, I quickly ate something and made myself a cup of coffee while I waited for either Carlisle or Alice to appear. We hadn't agreed an exact time, and that's why I found myself peeking through the window every now and then, searching for a familiar form to emerge from the alley of trees.

I didn't have to wait for long. As I was rinsing out my coffee cup, the faint humming of a car reached my ears. I swung the coat on my shoulders and walked to the door, the nerves suddenly fluttering in the pit of my stomach. Not knowing why I was suddenly so nervous, I shook the butterflies away and stepped outside.

Carlisle had already turned the car around on my narrow yard. He was holding the passenger door open for me, and as I stepped outside, I suddenly felt the need to avert his gaze. At first I didn't know where that sudden need came from, what was the feeling that made me shy away from his eys. But after a moment it dawned to me; the realization was sudden, startling, like the ice-cold doorknob beneath my warm palm.

I realized that I was way too happy to see him.

I turned around to lock the door to have something else to focus on, and as my mind was consumed by the simple task, I idly began to wonder if the black car humming softly a few steps away from me was the same one he'd had in Forks. It looked the same and sounded the same. The brand was the same and even the black leather seats felt the same as I eventually slid inside. Carlisle closed the door after me, and then he circled around the car in a normal human speed and got inside himself, oblivious of the waves of nostalgia that were filling me with memories.

"It seems like the winter decided to arrive," he said conversationally as he drove the car down the alley.

"Yeah," I answered with a smile, glancing at the white scenery outside. "It was a pleasant surprise."

Carlisle looked my way then, a curious glimmer in his eyes. "I was not aware you are fond of snow," he stated.

"I always wasn't," I admitted. "Maybe it's the novelty that appeals to me. I'm not that used to snow. The first time I saw it was in Forks, actually."

He turned to look at me again, his brow raising. "Really?" he asked. He seemed surprised after learning that. Maybe even oddly intrigued, but I thought I imagined it. Because why would he be intrigued?

I shrugged at his wonderment. "I grew up in Arizona. And as cold and glacial the climate sometimes is over there, it really doesn't snow that much," I jested.

He gave a soft laugh at my words. Talking about the weather was usually a good topic when there was nothing else to talk about, but yet I knew that it wasn't the case with us. We weren't chatting about the weather because we didn't have anything else to talk about, and we certainly didn't do it to fill an uncomfortable silence. Because it wasn't silent or uncomfortable.

Sudden joy filled me at the thought. It felt nice to know we had reached a certain level of comfort with each other. Or at least I had. I had no way of knowing if Carlisle felt the same about my company as I felt about his. I had no way of knowing if he _enjoyed_ my company as much as I enjoyed his.

I scolded myself inwardly for the thought. Because I wasn't supposed to enjoy his company. Not in a way that was considered beyond appropriate, anyway. I was suddenly glad he didn't possess the ability to read my mind. What would he think of me if he knew?

I watched the blurry sceneries passing by and wondered about the place we were going. I remembered Carlisle once telling me that their house was somewhere in Ithaca. I wondered how many years they had owned that place. Or had they bought it when they had arrived to Buffalo to protect me?

My fingers danced on the soft upholstery of the car seat. Another surge of nostalgia filled me as I remembered sitting in this car for hours several years ago when Alice and Jasper had rushed me to safety when they had protected me from James. It was ironic how different, but yet so similar, the situation was now. The current moment just wasn't as dire and urgent as it had been back then, but I had to admit that the same elements were there.

At least I didn't have to worry about Renée and Charlie this time. I was going to make sure they wouldn't get in the middle of this. That I promised myself. It didn't matter how long I had to keep from seeing them. I was relieved that I had been on my own for several years now, because my sudden inability to visit them wouldn't raise any questions. In any case, keeping distance was a small sacrifice.

My eyes turned to Carlisle nearly involuntarily, and I realized that I had no means to keep him or the other Cullens safe, away from harm's way.

He met my gaze as I turned to him, quirking his brow at my expression. I must have looked pretty serious because a frown furrowed his brow.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, a concerned expression coming over his face.

I nodded, trying to rid myself of the sudden worry. "Of course," I answered, the tips of my fingers brushing against the smooth leather seat. "Is this the same Mercedes you had back in Forks?" I asked, trying to get something else to think about.

Carlisle nodded. "Yes. I'm surprised that the engine hasn't failed even after all these years. I suppose it's due to Rosalie's efforts that the car is still in one piece," he stated, a gentle smile forming on his lips.

"Rosalie's?" I asked, not sure I understood.

"She's quite handy with cars," he praised. "She's nearly as passionate about them as Alice is about fashion."

"Oh," I chuckled. I'd have never thought Rosalie to be the type to roll her sleeves and crawl under an oily car. I guess I should get rid of my prejudice.

"The last time I was sitting in this car, Jasper and Alice were rushing me across the continent," I murmured, once again comparing the current situation to the past. "It's funny how some things come full circle like this."

Carlisle's small smile fell as he fixed his gaze upon the road ahead of him. "It is unfortunate that the past repeats itself this way," he said. "I wish we were here under different circumstances."

My heart skipped a beat at the words, and I glanced at him, wondering what he meant. It was almost like he was trying to say something to me without actually having to say it. If that was the case, why couldn't he just come up and say what he wanted? Although, I had to admit that I was no better. I acknowledged the things that were bothering me, the things that made me uncertain, and yet I couldn't bring myself to talk about them. I had once made a feeble attempt to do so, but I had only received an answer that was more or less a mystery to me.

I remembered that Sunday when Adrian had left. I remembered the feeling after realizing that I'd miss Carlisle and Alice when they'd leave again. I remembered my words, my acknowledgement, the sadness that had come from it, and I remembered Carlisle's answer.

"_You have other friends here,"_ he had said softly, trying to remind me that I wasn't alone.

"_You won't be here forever," _I had stated. I wondered if it had been some unconscious attempt to make it easier for me to accept what I had just said. Sometimes the problem you had didn't seem so huge after saying it out loud.

I remembered Carlisle's silence, the hesitasion in him. _"We are here now,"_ he had answered. Assured. Promised. I still didn't know what he had wanted to convey to me.

It seemed to have happened ages ago, but it really wasn't that long. It just felt like it. The time seemed to pass differently when Carlisle and Alice were in my life – I was forced to notice it. Even though I had been completely happy and content before they had showed up in Buffalo, I had to admit that their presence during the past weeks had been somehow very fulfilling. Like I had gotten a piece of myself back again, a piece I had once lost. Or maybe I hadn't lost it, after all. Maybe I had carried that piece with me all these years, but it had simply lied dormant, as if waiting to be awakened by their arrival.

The drive from Buffalo to Ithaca wasn't that long, probably because of Carlisle. His way to drive wasn't as fast and crazy as I remembered Edward's to be, but fast nonetheless. The drive should have taken over two hours, but in the end we were there in one hour. I watched through the window as the highways and houses turned into forests and smaller roads, and I tried to observe where we were going, attempting to memorize every crossroad and turn. But it was impossible, especially after turning to a gravel road that was more or less secluded. Trees whizzed by as I stared out of the passenger window, watching as the remaining rays of daylight escaped into the dusk. The snow had come to Ithaca, too; it gave the twilight a blurry tone of white and grey.

"The house is a bit isolated," I heard Carlisle saying, and I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. For the past several moments, it had been quite silent. I didn't know where that sudden silence had come from, but there'd been some sort of unrest in it.

"I'm sure it's very peaceful," I responded. "No annoying neighbors."

He chuckled softly at my words, but didn't say anything. I wasn't surpised; we had been barely talking during the rest of the drive.

I remembered my earlier thought an hour ago, about how we could talk about the weather and not do it just because we didn't have anything else to talk about. Now I found myself in regret that I had taken that ability to have a casual conversation for granted. Because for some reason, the casualness, the earlier ease, was gone. I felt it slipping away together with the daylight, leaving behind the twilight, the silence, and us.

It was uncommon of us not to speak. There was some sort of tension in the air between us, and I still couldn't tell when it had appeared, or why. I didn't even know if that tension even existed – maybe I only imagined it. Maybe it was my nerves getting the better of me. After all, I _was_ rather nervous about going where we were going. Seeing their house shouldn't have been such a big deal, espeacially because most of the Cullens were still scattered on their own ways and therefore the house was mostly uninhabited.

The leafless trees on the sides of the road began thin down, and I turned my gaze just in time to see the house appearing from the dimmening evening.

To say that the house was slightly different from the one they had in Forks was a lame expression. It was far from the rectangular, fair-colored building. In the dim light of the twilight, I was able to distinguish the dark, red-brown color of the exterior walls and the sharp angles of the roof. There was something wonderfully gothic about the house. I knew very little about architecture, but it wasn't that difficult to guess the design after seeing the sharp and defined features of the building.

Carlisle parked the car in front of the house while I admired the sight. He cut the engine, giving me a curious look. It was the first time he looked at me straight in the eye today. I didn't know why my observation seemed so significant, but somehow it just was exactly that; significant. Had he been avoiding my eyes today?

Why?

I nodded towards the house, my eyes leaving his for the shortest of second. "Gothic Revival?" I guessed.

A smile lifted the side of his mouth. "That is correct," he said, nodding. "It's from the 19th century."

"Wow," I breathed, admiring the old design of the house. "That's old."

His soft laugh surprised me. I glanced at him, noting the playful smile on his lips. I gave him a puzzled look, watching him as he got out of the car. Then he was suddenly standing next to the passenger door. He had moved so quickly I hadn't been able to see him actually moving.

He opened the door for me, and I was slightly stunned as I got out. I didn't even remember the last time someone had held a door open for me, and Carlisle had done it twice today. His old, gentlemanly gestures were sweet.

"The house is actually much younger than I am," he said softly, and I received an explanation to his amusement.

"Oh, right," I murmured, a little embarrassed. "How inconsiderate of me."

He brushed off my apologies with an understanding laugh.

"But you know what they say," I continued anyway as he led me closer to the house. "Age is just a number."

"That I can agree with," he smiled.

It was then when it dawned to me that I was three years older than him – _physically_. For some reason, despite the age difference between us – physical and otherwise – I felt oddly close to him, to his spirit. It's not that I dismissed the three hundred and some years that separated us and made him much wiser than I was in many ways. I was painfully aware of the differences between him and me, between my nature and his. My mortality was just one of those differences. There was a line between us, an invisible barrier to keep our worlds apart.

And yet... And yet I felt this indescribable pull towards him, the need to be in his company. It was easy to confess to myself that Carlisle's presence was enthralling. I tried to explain it by telling myself that it was because of all the things he had witnessed and seen during his long life. That it was the experiences, the history, the endless flow of time around him that had me so enchanted. Maybe it was, to some extent, but I knew it wasn't the whole truth.

I reproached myself for the thoughts, knowing that I had to keep these things to myself. Carlisle was my friend more than anything else, and I knew I couldn't bear to cause him discomfort. What I harbored in my mind and soul was my problem, and my problem only.

Twisting my neck to look up as I walked, I searched the eaves of the roof with my gaze. "No gargoyles," I remarked, only half-serious. Carlisle gave a soft laugh again. I was relieved that the earlier tension seemed to have disappeared, and at the moment it seemed like everything was normal between us again.

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "And if there were, I am quite certain Alice would get rid of them fairly quickly."

We laughed. I stopped for a moment to admire the house again while I was still able to see it. Straining my eyes in the diminishing light, I couldn't help but like the old charm it possessed. The house had three stories, but it seemed a lot higher than that – maybe it was because of the steeply pitched roof and the arched, pointed windows. I suddenly felt like I had stepped into a fairytale. The atmosphere around the house exuded prestige and ancient mystique.

I idly wondered how modern the house was on the inside. At least there seemed to be electricity – there was light coming out of the checkered windows.

"It's so beautiful," I heard myself murmuring, already captivated by the enigmatic ambience of the old building. It was no wonder it had appealed to the Cullens in the first place. I doubted anyone could pass the place by and not feel enchanted by it.

When Carlisle didn't say anything, I turned to look at him, wondering why he was so quiet.

Even in the rapidly diminishing light, I was able to see his eyes with perfect clarity. They were bright, like the stars illuminating the night sky. The golden radiance of them stood out against the darkness; the breath got caught in my throat. I tried to remember what I had said, or what I had been about to say, but the words disappeared, slipped away and escaped somewhere where I couldn't reach them. I let them go, allowed them to leave together with my quiet breaths.

Carlisle still had his words. But it was almost like he didn't quite possess them. It was almost like they escaped his lips without his approval, without his permission. They were defiant, those words, uncontrolled. Maybe that's what made them so open, so ingenuous.

"Beauty does have a tendency to capture one's attention," he said very quietly. There was no smile on his lips, but yet I knew he was harboring one. His expression was very calm, very somber. But his eyes... they were intense. Focused. On me.

I blinked, trying to remember how to breathe again. Trying to understand why my heart was thundering in my chest. If I could hear it, so could he.

"It's foolish," I managed to say, my words only a frail breath. "After all, beauty is only skin deep. That's what they say."

A corner of Carlisle's mouth quirked, then. I tried not to stare at the curve of his mouth as the smile he had been hiding finally formed on his lips. But I stared – I was choiceless. I watched how his lips opened and closed, forming words again.

"Perhaps," he agreed softly. "But I do not believe that is always the case. Beauty can run much deeper than that."

I wanted to ask him what he meant. I wanted to know what lied behind his words. I wanted to know why my simple compliment about the house had brought us to this conversation. I wanted to know if it was the house we were talking about, or was it something else. And if it was... I wanted to know what it was, and I wanted to know badly. So badly it burned.

"Maybe it's not a matter of belief," I countered. It was curiosity that made me say that; I wanted to know what he'd answer. His answers were always both predictable and surprising. It was a strange conflict. A beautiful one.

"Many things are a matter of belief," he disagreed softly, meeting my gaze as I looked at him. The smile was gone from his lips again, but it was in the golden warmth of his eyes now, that smile.

Okay. We were definitely not talking about the house.

I was about to ask something, maybe to hear him speak again, maybe to escape the hold of his eyes; I didn't know which. But Carlisle shifted, turning his head to look at the front door as though he heard something I couldn't.

The dark, wooden door opened with a quiet creak. Light erupted from inside, painting the small veranda with different tones of gold. It wasn't hard to recognize the silhouette peeking through the door.

"If I don't put an end to your conversation right now, it won't be until the morning when you remember the rest of the world," Alice reproached, but sounded oddly cheerful.

"Pardon us," Carlisle apologized to her with a smile, then gave me an amused glance. I gave a soft laugh as I looked around me, only now noticing that the twilight had deepened into pitch black darkness.

Alice could hardly stay still as we crossed the yard. I had to watch my step; the stone brick stairs leading to the front door were slippery. I felt Carlisle's hand touching my elbow ever so slightly, ready to steady me if I slipped. Maybe I was still a prisoner to the earlier moment, or maybe I only imagined it, but I suddenly had a feeling that his hand lingered close to my elbow a little longer than it was necessary. I quivered inside, felt myself flickering like a candle flame in the wind. But then his touch left me, and the wind was gone.

I felt oddly steady, then, and it startled me a bit when I realized that I preferred the flickering. The wavering.

The heady feeling of instability.

* * *

**AN:  
**Hello to all! I hope someone out there still keeps waiting for an update. The time seems to fly past me faster and ever, but still it feels like the story is literally crawling. Maybe my personal life will give me a little break in a few weeks and I get to focus on writing.

I had to split this chapter in two because it was originally way too long and the ending was unsatisfying. Now that it's split, I'm hoping I can make another update this month if I manage to get it presentable. Nothing is set in stone, but I promise to try! :)

What do you think about the development of Bella's and Carlisle's relationship? Am I going too slow, too fast, too something...? I'm more than eager to hear your opinion!


	11. Fate Worth Tempting

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**"Knowing is the easy part; saying it out loud is the hard part."**_

\- Nicholas Evans, _The Horse Whisperer _-

* * *

**Fate Worth Tempting**

Alice's foot tapped against the threshold impatiently. The closer Carlisle and I got to her, the more anxious she became, looking like she was about to take off into flight. A gust of warm air greeted me as we reached the veranda, and as soon as the bottom of my shoe touched the wooden flooring, Alice took my hand and practically towed me inside. I glanced over my shoulder to exchange an amused glance with Carlisle.

As I looked around me in the hall, once more I couldn't help but compare the house to the refined mansion they had in Forks. It was the color scheme that made me do that. I had somehow gotten used to seeing the Cullens surrounded by neutral tones of cream and white. The fair colors had almost made them blend in to the walls. But in here, nothing blended in; everything stood out. The inside of the house was an unexpected explosion of life and warm colors. There was nothing neutral about it. The decor was carefully thought out, very prestige and romantic without being overly exaggerated.

Alice was staring at me expectantly as my eyes sweeped the walls. I didn't know if she noticed, but the place was actually giving me goose bumps. The good kind of goose bumps.

The grin on her face was pleased as I met her glance. I suppose it wasn't that hard to see the effect the house had on me, and I hadn't even left the hall yet.

"Well?" she asked. "Do you like it?"

"Very much," I answered. As I heard Carlisle stepping beside me, I turned to give him a small smile.

"You should see the rest of it," he suggested, answering my smile. "I am sure Alice is more than eager to give you a tour."

"You read my mind," she grinned, grabbing my elbow and beginning to lead me to the end of the hall towards the staircase.

"You're skipping downstairs," I noted as she hauled me to the second floor. Alice's steps were light and soundess as expected, but the stairs creaked lightly under my weight. The sound of it was somehow very charming, reminding me that I was surrounded by walls that had stood there for over two centuries. What had they seen, these walls? What kind of a family had lived here when the house had just been built? Had they been happy? Had they been sad?

"Downstairs is boring," Alice stated, answering my earlier statement. "I haven't worked on any of the rooms yet. Except the hall and dining room."

"What have you done to the other rooms so far?" I asked, wondering if her plan was to restore the entire house.

"There was some fixing to be done," she explained as she led us to a heavy wooden door that was open. "But I didn't dare to change things too much – it'd be a sacrilege to make the place too modern and something it's not."

I agreed quietly, thinking that the house was very charming as it was.

There were three rooms on the second floor, all of them having a similar appearance. The color theme was the same as downstairs; different tones of burgundy and champagne were skillfully united with old wallpaper patterns. The rooms looked like bedrooms without the beds; I suppose they could have been called dens, more likely. They had been furnished with armchairs, small couches and tables. The walls were covered with paintings and other pieces of art, and a shelf or two filled with books and magazines had been situated in the cozy nooks of the rooms.

"Did you do all this?" I asked Alice, suddenly impressed. Apparently fashion wasn't the only thing she was skillful at.

"Esme did the most of the work a couple of years ago," she answered. "We lived here for a short period of time after we left Forks. I'm only finishing something she started. Jasper's been helping me as well."

"Oh," I quirked my brow, nodding. That answered one of my questions; I had earlier wondered how long they had owned the house. "Well, it looks really great."

Alice smiled, taking my arm and beginning to lead me towards another set of stairs.

On our way to the third floor, I mulled over her earlier words. Her mention of Jasper inevitably drew my attention to his absence. Already when we had arrived with Carlisle, I had noticed that Jasper was nowhere to be seen. I tried not to worry about it. If he wasn't ready to see me today, I understood. But I did want him to come around, sooner rather than later. I didn't want him to feel guilty about something that had happened years ago, something that hadn't even been his fault. He shouldn't feel the need to stay away from my presence, and it made me sorrowful to think that I made him feel like he should.

The rooms on the third floor didn't differ that much from the second floor. Alice showed them to me in any case, and the sound of our casual conversation filled the old hallway as we finally came to a halt. Alice's musical voice quieted down as she gazed at the wooden door ahead of us. It was the only room I hadn't seen yet. It was situated at the end of the floor, and the door was closed; that's the first thing I noticed. The other doors along the hallway had been either wide open or slightly ajar.

Alice gave me a smug glance, and at first I didn't understand why. Reaching out for the handle, she turned it and opened the door. And then I realized why she had saved this room for the last.

It was like stepping into a place I had been in before a million times, even though I hadn't. But it didn't mean anything. The room was familiar, despite the fact I had never seen it before. The air was the same air I breathed in every day. The walls were the same walls, the floor was the same floor. The shelves, wooden and old, were waiting silently and faithfully for someone to walk by.

Everything about the room chanted the word home. I heard it as I stepped inside, walking closer to the wooden shelves and brushing my fingers against the spines of the books. Home, home, home, my footsteps said.

Alice gave a soft laugh behind me. I turned to her, smirking.

"I'll be fine from now on," I told her. "You can go. I don't need you anymore."

She laughed again, stepping into the room as well. "I knew you'd like it," she said, smiling. "Usually bringing work home with you and wherever you might go is unhealthy. But I don't think that's the case with you."

"I'll let you know if I burn myself out," I murmured distracredly, my lips moving soundlessly as I read the spines of the books. The place was a heaven. I realized it had to be someone's study or office, or more likely a library. However, it was clear that it belonged to Carlisle. No one else of the Cullens would dedicate an entire room for endless amounts of words. Only Carlisle would.

Eventually I forced myself to look away from the shelves, my eyes beginning to study the rich, dark wood walls that were covered with paintings. While seeing them was no surprise since the entire house was full of them, I noticed that these paintings were somehow different from the others. There was a certain spirit in them that bound them together. I felt oddly peaceful as my eyes skimmed over the sceneries captured on the canvases. Oceans of pure blue, forests of deep green. Home, home, home, I heard again. In my mind's eye, I saw Renée's and Phil's dwelling by the beach where the sand was too hot and the air was too humid. And I saw Charlie's white house, surrounded by the trees that were too green and the rain pouring against the roof was too wet.

I blinked. It was unexpected that foreign paintings could trigger such a reaction in me. That seeing something I had never layed my eyes on before could suddenly become dear memories, whispers from the past, before my very eyes. A smile curved my lips; I liked this room. It was mysterious. Full of familiar surprises.

Quiet footsteps against the hardwood floor of the hallway pulled me from my ponderings, and I turned around to see who was nearing the room. I tried to leave behind the atmosphere of the paintings, to escape the scenes that were playing in the corners of my mind, but at the same time I was having a strange urge to linger in them for a while more.

Carlisle appeared to the doorway, wearing a small smile. He exchanged a look with Alice, one so swift that it was barely there. For some odd reason, it caught my attention.

"Does the house please you?" Carlisle asked me, drawing my focus on him again.

"It does," I nodded. "It's very beautiful. I feel like I've gone back in time. They don't make houses like this anymore."

He smiled softly at my response. Alice came to stand beside me, exchanging a look with him. It puzzled me. It was almost like they were having a secret discussion.

She cleared her throat, then, and it made me even more confused. I had never heard her do that before. It seemed a little bit out of character, especially because she always had a crystal-clear voice.

"I'm sure you had a long drive," she said to me. "I'll go downstairs and make you tea and something to eat."

"Oh, you don't have to bother - " I tried to decline, but Alice shook her head. She was already dancing towards the doorway.

"It's no bother," she insisted, giving Carlisle a meaningful glance. "A little help, please?"

"Of course," he consented. Before he followed Alice, he turned to give me one more smile. "In the meantime, go ahead and take a look around," he suggested, gesturing towards the endless rows of books. "If you see something that you find interesting, feel free to take a closer look."

"Thanks," I nodded.

His genuinely warm smile was suddenly giving me the shivers. I tried to shake them away as he left, and I hoped he hadn't noticed how his smile had affected me. Then I struggled to ignore it myself, trying to be indifferent about the warm feelings somewhere within me. Feelings that awoke everytime he smiled at me like that.

_I have no feelings, _I tried to convince myself quietly. _I'm just pleased to hear that I get to go through all these books. And he was smiling at me only because he wanted to be friendly. There's nothing more to it than that._

_Right?_

I turned to the towering shelves to drown the flood of thoughts, trying to focus on the books. It was usually like a paradise to me, to be surrounded by hundreds of volumes that were both old and new, but now I found it difficult to focus. I took a deep breath, a very quiet one. Then I plucked a book from the shelf randomly without looking. I idly riffled through it before I bothered to glance at the cover.

_Forbidden Love _by_ Anthony Green. _

I hurriedly shoved it back to the right place, sighing. Then I rose to my tiptoes, reaching out to take another one.

_Immortal Passion _by _Karen Wiley._

Damn it. What was up with the universe?

Sighing heavily, I stared at the name of the book, partly annoyed, partly confused.

"You seem agitated."

I nearly dropped the heavy volume as I gasped and turned around. Pressing a palm over my chest, I gazed at the shadow emerging from the hallway. It took a few seconds until my heart began to calm down again.

"You scared me," I said with a chuckle after getting over my surprise.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention."

I studied the tall man before me. His butter-scotch eyes and the blond, slightly wavy hair. His frame that was lean and strong, his expression that was slightly reserved. There was no smile on Jasper's lips, but I thought I could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. I searched for any signs that could reveal his uneasiness to me, but those things didn't seem to occupy the leonine man before me. I was relieved to see that he wasn't quite as reserved like the last time I had seen him. I remembered that dark night in the park a few weeks ago, and I remembered how his pursue to keep his distance had saddened me.

I was suddenly feeling very calm, entirely and wholly, but I knew it wasn't his doing. I was calm simply because I had no reason to feel otherwise. I had no reason to fear. He was no threat to me. I suddenly realized what Alice had been scheming earlier, and why she had urged Carlisle to leave the room with her. I guess she had wanted to give Jasper and me a short moment alone to clear the air between us.

I searched for a proper way to begin a conversation when I remembered his earlier comment. The one that had startled me in the first place. He had said that I was agitated – I suppose I had to be more careful with my moods from now on.

"I'm not agitated," I denied his earlier words, not wanting him to think that I was afraid of him. Because I wasn't. The reason for the earlier tension, for the shivers dancing on my skin, lied in something entirely else.

The other side of Jasper's mouth quirked. "I didn't meant it in a negative way," he explained, a sudden twinkle in his eyes. "One can be nervous about something without being troubled."

I gave a soft laugh, biting my lip and trying to think of something to say. I didn't want to admit that he was right, but there was no reason to argue about it, either. Because surely he knew all about that, about different tones of emotions people went through. I wondered what it was like for him to be constantly surrounded by them. Did every person have a unique scale of emotions, one of a kind like a fingerprint? And was it tiresome for him to have to constantly feel all that, to go through emotions that weren't his own?

"Well," I said, deciding to end the silence that had conquered the room. "I am not troubled or agitated. Not anymore. I guess I was just... lost in my thoughts."

"I see." Jasper took a step closer, his hands in his pockets. For some reason it caught my attention, probably because I had never seen him so relaxed in my company. The Jasper I had seen in the park had been cool and withdrawn, and the difference to the man in front of me was prominent. I suppose Carlisle had been right – he had just needed time to work things out with himself.

"Found something interesting?" he queried casually, nodding towards the book in my hands.

Shrugging, I turned to the shelf again and quickly hid _Immortal Passion _among the dozens of other volumes. "Not really my taste," I explained, not even fathoming the thought of telling him why the name of the book was making me so worked-up.

For my relief, he didn't push the matter any further. As I turned around to face him again, I tried to read his expression to know what was going through his mind. I wondered why he hadn't decided to appear until now. Had he been hiding somewhere in the house when I had arrived, trying to pluck up the courage to come and see me? Or had hesitated, perhaps even entertained the thought of not facing me at all?

I remembered Carlisle telling me that Jasper felt like he didn't deserve my trust. I thought he was wasting his energy and emotions if he felt that way. If he still felt guilty about what happened on the night of my eighteenth birthday... Well, it was needless to say that guilt was the last thing I wanted him to feel. Accidents happened, and sometimes those short moments that seemed almost insignificant were the ones that sealed our fates. That's how life functioned sometimes. It was foolish to struggle against forces that weren't ours to control.

Jasper was looking at me now, narrowing his eyes as I pondered. It was almost like he had heard what I had been thinking because he shook his head and lowered his eyes to the floor, almost as if to disagree with my thoughts.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head again before lifting his gaze. A small laugh left his lips, but the sound held no joy.

"I wish I could describe with words the spirit you spread around you," he said. His Southern accent was more prominent than usually – I wondered what caused it. "It's like this heavy cloud of confidence and trust that drowns everything else. It makes me feel self-assured, and it shouldn't."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because it's dangerous," he answered.

The expression on his face reminded me of Edward. How many times had he told me that very same thing, said the word danger and expected me to run away? As many times as I had ignored him.

But I wasn't ignoring anything now. I was listening to what Jasper had to say, even though I was already aware of the things he was about to tell me. I wasn't blocking my ears mentally as I had done many times with Edward. I wasn't trying to deny what Jasper was saying and childishly insist that his words's weren't true. I suppose that was the difference between feigning acceptance and actually acknowledging something. You could always pretend and try to convince yourself that you were listening and understanding, or then you could actually listen and hear. And it was the hearing part that had been always so difficult for me.

"Self-assurance gives me the false feel of security," Jasper continued when I didn't say anything. "It's something I can't afford. I know the cost of it." He paused for a while, holding my gaze as if to make sure I had his attention. "There's been many times when I've felt confident with myself. A certain amount of confidence can be a good thing. But if you allow that feeling to grow, if you allow it to get to the point where you let your guard down... Suddenly, instead of controlling what happens around you, you become a slave for your own instincts and lose that control you were supposed to have over yourself. And just because a moment earlier you foolishly believed to be strong and powerful enough to be the master of the situation."

"There's nothing wrong with it if you trust yourself," I noted. "You said it yourself – a certain amount of confidence is a good thing. Finding that confidence is something many people try to pursue throughout their lives without succeeding. And they don't even have the same issues to battle with like you do."

There was a small flicker in the gold of his eyes, but a veiled expression came over his face almost immediately as he shook his head. "It doesn't take away the danger."

"Maybe it doesn't," I agreed. "But life is full of dangers. No one can say for sure when one of them will cross paths with you. And if you go through your days fearing the possibility of it, and refrain from living just because you're afraid that something _might_ happen..." I paused, shaking my head. "Life is too short for that. Even for you."

"There won't be nothing short about it if you have to live with the knowledge that you've taken someone's life."

I stayed silent. Because I really had no right to say anything about that. I knew very little about Jasper's past, but I had a feeling that his starting points someway differed from his siblings'. I knew Jasper hadn't had Carlisle to guide him and steer him away from mistakes.

Jasper looked away from me, and his golden eyes began to sweep the room. He studied the endless rows of books behind my back, and when he spoke again, he didn't meet my eyes.

"How many books do you think there are in this room?" he suddenly asked.

I glanced behind me, looking at the towering shelves filling the space. "Hundreds," I answered, quirking my brow at him. "Maybe thousands."

Finally Jasper met my gaze. Probably because he wanted to see my reaction. "So no less than the amount of lives I've taken during my life."

A flood of feelings washed over me. Shock, surprise, horror. But then I asked myself: what had I expected? And what was _he _expecting? Maybe he had thought that this was the point where I turned on my heel and ran away.

"Past shouldn't define who you are today," I said. Jasper shifted barely noticeably, almost like I had taken him by surprise. Maybe I had.

"It shouldn't," he agreed. "But the truth is that it does. Ignoring your past, the mistakes you've made, is unforgivable."

"I didn't mean that you should ignore your past," I explained calmly. "I only meant that you can learn from it. If you've made mistakes before, it doesn't mean that you're condemned to repeat them for the rest of your life. That's the thing about choices, you see. And I know you've made yours."

Jasper was silent for a long while. The hard expression he'd masked himself with during my words began to melt away.

"I have made my choice," he agreed quietly. "But sometimes sticking to it is difficult for me, as you know. And to know that someone is at the risk of getting hurt because of that difficulty... I detest the very existence of that possibility. Of another person dying because of my weakness."

"And that's what makes you _you_," I said, trying to get him to undertand. "They don't call it conscience for nothing."

Suddenly, he gave a dry laugh. The smile rising on his lips lighted up the atmosphere of the room significantly. "I suppose not," he agreed. He was silent for a moment again, gazing down at the floor before lifting his head to look at me. "For what it's worth," he sighed, suddenly sounding almost weary, "I am very sorry about what happened in Forks. I'm ashamed of my behaviour, and I promise you that it won't happen again. You probably think that I shouldn't tempt my fate by saying something like this, but... this is a promise I intend to keep."

"I believe you," I assured, smiling. "Sometimes fate is worth tempting."

For the rest of the evening, I felt oddly light. As Jasper accompanied me back downstairs, I idly thought that maybe the situation between us had bothered me more than I had even known. I remembered how nervous I had been about coming to see the house, and I felt some of that tension leaving me as Jasper guided me into the huge dining room where Alice was dashing around.

The latter urged me to sit down before lowering a huge mug of steaming hot tea in front of me. Then she looked at me through her narrowed eyes as I took a sip, apparently observing my reaction.

"It's really good," I praised, and I had to chuckle quietly when I saw her relieved smile. She sunk into the chair across from me, looking both happy and smug.

"I haven't made tea in a really long time," she explained. "And I wanted it to be perfect."

"You're an overachiever," I stated, only half-serious.

"I am not," she disagreed, glaring at Jasper as he bent down to kiss her cheek tenderly, as if to agree with my words. "I just want things to be the way they're supposed to be. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

I smiled, shrugging. The earlier feeling of lightness I had experienced began to change into something else. Comfort. Contentment. I wrapped my fingers around the mug, feeling the warmth of it through my fingertips. It began to spread, that warmth, as I watched Jasper giving Alice a teasing comment, something about the small difference between perfectionism and obsessive behaviour. I observed their bantering with joy in my heart, and that's when I realized how much I had missed this, missed the presence of these creatures who weren't even supposed to exist in this world. But these mythical beings were real. More real than many other people who had stopped by in my life.

The thought made my very core shake and shudder, and I didn't know if the feeling was positive or not. It could be positive – I knew that. If only I allowed it to be that. If only it was up to me. If only.

But the world didn't function that way. Rare things in this life were only up to you. Not every decision was yours to make.

"Bella?"

Quirking my brow, I looked up from the dark surface of the tea. "Sorry?" I asked, realizing I hadn't payed attention.

"Your tea is getting cold," Alice reminded with a smile. Jasper stood beside her, the look in his eyes suddenly observant. I hadn't payed attention to my moods and feelings, and I knew I had to be more careful around him from now on.

Apparently someone decided to put that small decision to test right away. Carlisle appeared from the hallway, holding a black cell phone in his hand. He gave me a warm smile as he entered, passing the phone to Alice.

"Rosalie called," he explained to me. "She wanted to know if we've heard from Edward."

I quirked my brow. "Is he missing?"

Carlisle shook his head. "He separated from Rosalie and Emmett a few days ago as I'm sure you remember," he began to explain, waiting until I nodded. "Rosalie wasn't able to contact him and got worried. But Alice confirmed he is well. He's only out of reach."

"I told him smartphones are useless in the wilderness," Alice muttered. "Their battery life is pathetic."

"Is he on his way to Alaska?" I queried, a little worried because he was on his own.

"He's thinking about going there," Alice admitted, frowning. "But he's hesitating. It seems that maybe he hasn't quite given up on Victoria. I see him entertaining the thought of going to Forks to search for clues in case she's been there recently. But he's only playing with the idea. I'm not sure whether or not he goes."

"He considers it out of frustration," Jasper said. "When I met him a few days ago, he agreed that our search for Victoria is probably useless. I don't think he really still believes she could have something to do with the situation. He just wants to do _something_."

Carlisle nodded. "I understand that feeling quite well."

I gave him a glance. He met my gaze, the serious expression on his face changing into more serene one. He pulled himself a chair and sat down. "There is not much we can do at the moment," he told me. "The only thing we can do is to wait if Alice sees something and meanwhile keep a careful eye on you."

I gave him a rueful smile. "I'm sure Edward isn't the only one who's frustrated," I ventured to say. "It must frustrate all of you as well. To be stuck in here this way, just to keep me safe."

Carlisle opened his mouth to say something, but Alice was faster.

"We are doing it gladly," Alice said, her tone almost reproving. "The only thing that frustrates us is that we don't know what's going on. Every hour we have to spend doing nothing puts your life at risk."

The mug in my fingers was beginning to feel cooler. I lowered it on the table, and against all common sense I began to stir the remaining tea as if it were still hot. Jasper and Carlisle were talking again, filling the empty silence that had fallen after Alice's words. I tried to follow their conversation, but the images Alice's words had evoked prevented me from focusing. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the lurking, red eyes I saw in my mind's eye.

When the evening was turning into the night, Carlisle offered to drive me home. I thanked everyone for getting to spend time at their house, and Alice made me promise to come by later to admire the results of her work once she had finished restoring downstairs.

I knew it must have been already pretty late, but I was feeling surprisingly alert as Carlisle steered the car along the narrow gravel road. The headlights sweeped the darkness ahead of us, and only the soft humming of the engine could be heard. I was suddenly nervous, dreading for another lasting silence that had lingered between us on our way here. But fortunately, that fear was unfounded.

Carlisle drew in a quiet breath beside me. I heard the movement of his head as he turned to glance at me, the ends of his hair brushing softly against the collar of his coat.

"What you told Jasper this evening was wonderful," he said quietly.

I looked his way, my eyes abandoning the road ahead of us. I knew I shouldn't have been surprised that he had heard the discussion between me and Jasper. Alice had probably heard it, too. It didn't feel like eavesdropping, because there was little they could do about their sense of hearing that was almost ultra-accurate.

"I don't know," I murmured an answer. "I wish there had been something more I could have said to him. Something that would've made him see beyond his uncertainties."

"What you said was just right," Carlisle assured. "The way he acted around you tonight proves it. I don't remember ever seeing him so... liberated around you before."

"Was he terribly nervous about me coming over?"

He hesitated for a short while, but nodded eventually. "He was feeling unsure about himself. He regretted his behaviour after he saw you in the park a few weeks ago. And his control over his thirst troubled him as well, though I assured him he had no reason to worry. His control has improved significantly over the years." Carlisle looked away from the road for a short moment to give me a glance. "The memory of what happened in Forks has been haunting him all this time. But that very same memory also urged him on and eventually helped him to improve his self-control."

I nodded, pondering. "I'm glad that something good came from that day. It's funny how an occurence like that can sometimes have a positive effect on something. Life is so unexpected."

Carlisle smiled. "That is true. And I have to thank you for talking about this matter with him. What you said to him was very wise, and I could see that your words got him thinking."

His praise made me feel both confused and oddly content. "What was so wise about it?" I queried out of curiosity, idly wondering why my words to Jasper had sounded so special in Carlisle's ears.

He tilted his head slightly, pondering for a very short moment. "What you said about life, for instance," he answered, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him. "And how it's too short for being constantly afraid of something." He fell silent for a second or two, still staring at the road. I had a strange feeling he was trying to avoid looking at me. "And what you said about the past - that we should learn from it instead of ignoring it... it was very wise as well. Not to mention what you said about fate. That sometimes it is worth tempting."

A tender blush rose to my cheeks, and I was suddenly glad it was so dark in the car. But then I realized that the darkness probably didn't matter to him, thanks to his supernatural eyesight. I hoped he wouldn't look at me and see how his words had affected me.

But of course he did. Of course he had to know that apparently, I couldn't have a normal conversation with him anymore without blushing like an idiot.

He turned to look at me slowly, gazing at me for a short while. Even though he wasn't paying attention to the road ahead of him and the car's speedometer showed a number much above the legal speed limit, I felt completely safe.

I drew in a breath to say something, to fill the silence between us. Because I couldn't stand that silence. Because I knew that if we were silent for too long, I might say something that could take me in a place where there was no return. Would he accompany me to that place? I did not know. And that's why I couldn't go there myself.

"Anyone could have said what I told Jasper," I stated softly, for some reason feeling the need to belittle my words. "There was nothing special about it."

Carlisle looked back at the road. "I disagree," he murmured softly. "Not many would say that fate is worth tempting."

I stared at the side profile of his face. The road we were now on was illuminated, and the street lights conquered the darkness of the car every few seconds. It allowed me to see the expression on his face. It was serious, maybe even a little cautious.

"Would you?" I queried, something about his face tempting me to ask.

The other side of Carlisle's mouth quirked. It was almost a smile, a very prudent one.

"Possibly," he answered, turning to look at me again. "Because if fate is not worth tempting, what is?"

I swallowed. For the millionth time, I was having a feeling there was a discussion behind our discussion. A discussion we should be having instead of this one. And we were having it, in a certain way. But it always stayed in the shadows, almost as if we weren't quite able to bring it out. And all that was left were the wavering pieces of acknowledgement, pieces I could not put together. Not without knowing what he thought, how he felt. Not without knowing how _I _felt.

Or did I already know? Was it the recognition, the acknowledgement, that was so difficult to overcome? Not to mention telling him about it, saying it out loud?

I watched the sleeping world outside, the darkness that swallowed the miles we left behind. It was a peculiar combination of light and dark; I saw the snow covering the sceneries where the street lights hit the ground. But beyond that, there was only the darkness. The snow might have existed there, but I couldn't know that for sure because I could not see it.

I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, listening to the steady running of the engine. After a while, maybe minutes, or maybe even hours later, the motions of the car ceased and the quiet humming quieted down. I opened my eyes again. The sight of my apartment greeted me, but I had no urge to go inside. I had no urge to open the door of the car and step outside and leave this evening behind, to pretend that the past hours had affected me in no way.

"Were you asleep?" Carlisle asked beside me. I shook my head, giving him a smile that reached my lips but not my heart.

Opening the door, I got out with a resigned sigh. Carlisle got out as well, and I looked at him over the roof of the car as he closed the door on his side. He met my eyes, sensing my searching gaze and quirking his brow in a questioning manner. I only shook my head, walking across the white yard to the door.

It wasn't only until I had gotten inside, taken off my coat and tossed it on the back of the couch when I finally turned to him. Carlisle had closed the door behind him and was standing close to it. For some reason, I didn't know why, it caught my attention that he had stayed by the door instead of stepping in any further.

He met my gaze as I looked at him. Then I answered the question that had lingered in my mind for the past few moments.

"Nothing," I said.

His brow rose, the look in his eyes both questioning and confused.

"Nothing," I repeated, smiling almost playfully. It felt out of place, that smile; the topic seemed too serious for it. "Earlier you asked: if fate is not worth tempting, what is? That's my answer. Nothing."

A look of understanding came over Carlisle's face. He gave me a small smile, but didn't comment on my words right away. Instead he lowered his eyes to the floor as if he were deep in thought. Maybe he was, but to me it looked like he tried to choose his next words carefully.

"I wouldn't have thought you believe in fate, Bella," he said, lifting his gaze from the floor. His words were something between a question and a statement; I felt a compelling need to answer. My name, as he spoke it, was something between a quiet sigh and an invitation; I felt a compelling need to move closer.

"What would make you think I don't?" I asked.

Carlisle gave a soft laugh, a very quiet one. "You just seem too sensible for it."

"Are you saying that if you believe in fate, it makes you a fool?" I asked jestingly.

He smiled. "No. Perhaps sometimes it makes you a fool not to." He fell silent. The intensity of his gaze made me warm, and I shifted, unable to stay still. I felt the need to move, and at the same time I felt the need to stay still. Very still.

His golden eyes lingered on me. His honest, ingenuous eyes. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The playful smile died on my lips, and something else came in its place; a welling feeling of wonderment as I realized that he was still looking at me. Almost like he didn't dare to turn away, almost like something compelled him to keep his eyes open.

Something also compelled him to stay there, across the room. And if he felt like he didn't dare to look away from me, he also didn't dare to come any closer. Because it might tip the balance. It might make the air we breathed somehow different. Maybe he didn't want that. Maybe he wanted to keep the balance as it was. Maybe he wanted the air between us to be just air.

The thought saddened me more than I could have expected.

He blinked his eyes, then. The intensity of his gaze melted away with that one blink, with that small, simple motion of his eyelids. His eyes were still honest, ingenuous. Friendly. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I am sure you're tired," he said then, very quietly. "It's been a long night."

I found myself wanting to disagree, because a momentary weariness seemed suddenly very insignificant to me. But I stayed silent, not saying a thing. Because I realized that while Carlisle's words had been spoken out of kindness, there was something else behind those words. I nearly felt like I had just been dismissed, very subtly and discreetly.

"Yeah, it has," I agreed somewhat reluctantly. I felt oddly heavy as I grabbed my coat from the back of the couch, but that heaviness didn't come from fatigue or the long hours passed in the beautiful house surrounded by trees. I felt heavy because I didn't want to leave the room. I felt heavy because I didn't want to acknowledge the silent message in Carlisle's words. I felt heavy because I didn't want him to send me off. I felt heavy because suddenly I realized; what if he knew? What if he had become aware of what I thought of him, how I had come to feel about him?

When I was turning away, Carlisle suddenly began to cross the small living room with soundless, calm steps. The heaviness abandoned me for a short second, but it kept lingering on the background, even as he reached out to touch my elbow. The coolness of his fingers seeped through the sleeve of my shirt. The scar from my eighteenth birthday began to tingle; even my scars remembered his touch.

I met his gaze, feeling shaky and steady at the same time.

"I wanted to thank you for this evening," he said quietly, his touch lingering. "Your visit meant a lot to us."

Nodding, I felt my fingers wrapping around the fabric of my coat. It felt good to hold something – otherwise I wouldn't have known where to keep my hands. "It meant a lot to me, too," I said quietly. Meeting his eyes was suddenly difficult, but when I eventually managed to lift my gaze from the floor, I saw something in his expression that chased away the remnants of that earlier feeling of heaviness.

There was delight in his eyes, apparently born from my small confession. "Truly?" he asked, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe my words. His hand left my arm, dropping to his side and looking like it didn't belong there.

"Truly," I assured, but could say no more. I started to make a move to leave the room, because the air between us was just air and nothing more, and it was slowly suffocating me. But before I could turn around and make my legs move, I noticed it was Carlisle who was inching away towards the front door.

"Aren't you staying?" The words escaped before I had the chance to stop them. My voice was oddly serene.

"Not tonight," he answered. The small smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes. "I intend to check the nearby areas and make sure no one has been here while we were absent."

Something told me that maybe he wasn't completely honest. That maybe his routine check-up round was just an excuse to leave the house. I didn't know where the thought came from, but somehow I knew I was right.

But I wasn't going to poke holes to his story. Again I felt like he had given me a very subtle message, a message that told me that keeping a certain distance was better, that keeping the balance between us was better. That the air between us should be just air. Nothing more, nothing less. It almost felt like a rejection, but not quite.

Because to be rejected, you had to put something on the line first. I hadn't done that.

"I won't be far," Carlisle said. He was across the room again, his hand already on the doorhandle. One foot out of the door, so to speak. I wondered if that was still the case with them, and I wondered if I should feel disappointed because of it.

"I know," I answered, almost whispering.

After giving me one more smile that didn't reach his eyes, Carlisle stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He did it very quietly, as though he didn't want to hear the sound of the door clicking shut and locking him outside.

Later that night, as the dreams eluded me and I lied in bed fully awake, I wondered which was worse; to lock yourself outside out of your own will, or to have someone else lock you out, not willing to invite you in.

Both had happened tonight. Someone had locked himself out, and that same someone had locked me out as well.

* * *

I cussed quietly as I scanned the store with my eyes for the tenth time, trying to locate one of my red mittens. I was practically forced to wear those now – the temperature outside had dropped below zero and seemed to stay there. The days had grown shorter and the nights darker, and the world outside seemed to change nearly imperceptibly day by day, as if trying not to alert us about the nearing winter. It arrived with soft and quiet steps, leaving behind downy snowflakes and icy works of art on the surface of the bookstore window.

I crouched down under the counter to see if the mitten was there, but all I found was the small calculator I'd lost two weeks ago. I let out an exasperated sigh, deciding to quit. My fingers probably wouldn't freeze and fall off during the short walk to my apartment. I had three extra pairs at home – Renée had taken it as her responsibility to send me warm clothing every year. Scarves, mittens, hats. She had even learned how to knit herself instead of bying anything. Apparently she worried that I might freeze to death, and I was more or less amused by the thought – it wasn't _that_ cold in Buffalo.

And image of her sitting under a palm tree with a pile of wool and knitting needles made me chuckle.

After rising from my crouch and hitting the back of my head against the edge of the counter, I wasted a moment or two on mumbling profanities under my breath. I imagined Jasper lurking somewhere outside the store, hiding in the shadows of the streets and laughing his head off at my clumsiness. Or at least I presumed it was Jasper who was watching over me right now. I'd seen him early in the afternoon, sitting in front of a small cafe opposite of the bookstore. I'd peeked outside to make sure that the paving in front of the door wasn't slippery, and that's when I'd spotted him. He had winked at me behind his newspaper, and then gone back to drinking his coffee – or pretending to drink it. It had almost surprised me that he hadn't cut eyeholes to his newspaper like a proper stalker.

I shook my head at the memory, chuckling. While I was relieved and happy to see that Jasper no longer shied away from my company like before, it'd have been nice if he had ventured to come inside the store instead of staying out. But when I thought about it, he probably had better chances to observe his surroundings from outside.

After giving one more bitter glance at the red mitten whose pair was still missing, I put out the lights and headed outside into the cold December evening. I noticed that the streets were more busy than usually at this time of day. The nearing Christmas had driven many people out of their warm homes. After dodging dozens of elbows and people with too many shopping bags, crossing the street and nearly falling on my butt, I let out a long breath, thinking to myself that luckily Christmas was only once a year.

Jasper was waiting for me as I got to the park. For my surprise, he was holding a pair of brown mittens in his hand. He nodded at me as I neared, offering them to me. I remembered that Renée had sent that pair to me two years ago.

"Alice," Jasper explained with a lopsided smile. "She informed me that you lost something today."

"Thanks. I should have known she'd see it," I chuckled, shaking my head as I slipped my ice cold fingers inside the warm mittens.

The park was mostly deserted as Jasper and I made our way along the curving path. I enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded us. The noises of the city slowly dissipated, and eventually only the sound of the snow crunching under our feet could be heard. I could see my breaths as I walked – it was a cold evening.

I noticed there was no white vapor ecaping Jasper's lips. He either wasn't breathing, or then his body didn't produce any moisture as he inhaled and exhaled. I didn't know which it was, and that's when I realized how little I actually knew about their physiology. There were so many details, small and big ones, that I hadn't come to know during my short time in Forks.

Jasper sensed my stare, his golden eyes turning to study me. The park around us was lit, but poorly; the lanterns didn't manage to shed enough light to the path. For some reason, the meager light made his features sharpen, become more defined. The Cullens always looked so different in the dark. I wondered if it was their nature that caused it. Or maybe it was just my imagination.

"What's in your mind?" Jasper asked, his voice friendly and curious.

I gave a quiet laugh; the sound escaped into the air as a white, quickly dissolving cloud.

"I just wondered why I become a steam engine when it's cold and you don't," I answered.

Jasper gave a quiet chuckle. "My body doesn't produce water vapor like yours," he explained. "But we do expel gaseous byproducts as we breath out – you are just not able to see it. Because of those byproducts, breathing is almost a necessity. Even for us."

I frowned. "But Edward once told me you don't need to breathe to survive."

"He probably meant that we don't need any oxygen to survive like you do," Jasper corrected. "We can go long periods of time without breathing, but eventually it becomes rather uncomfortable. Breathing is more useful. For instance, we need to breathe in order to find a scent as we hunt. And even though we don't need oxygen, we need nitrogen and titanium from the air. It's important for our cellular structure."

"Wow," I quirked my brow, realizing that there was a lot more going on than I even knew. I couldn't even count how many times Edward had expressed his somewhat black-and-white opinion about their nature. He'd kept chanting about how their bodies were dead, unable to alter and age. It was almost like he had thought little of himself, of all of them. It was almost like he'd thought that because of their appearance and vampire attributes, they had no reason or right to exist.

I had never been able to see it that way. I had never been able to think that the Cullens weren't alive. Just because their hearts were silent and their skins were as hard as granite didn't meant that they were dead – that they were somehow less alive than I was. They didn't need a beating heart in order to be alive_. _As silent as their hearts were, I knew they were there. They didn't need to make a sound in order to beat.

With these thoughts accompanying me, Jasper and I walked in silence, and soon we turned to the tree alley leading to my apartment. I saw lights coming out of the window of my living room, and I smiled at the thought of Alice hustling inside, lighting up candles and preparing tea for me. That was her new everyday ritual, one that I had begun to grow a liking to.

As we entered my apartment, I was still so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed something on the wall. Something that hadn't been hanging there in the morning when I had left.

"Oh my god," I said. "Alice, please tell me that's not a _garland_."

"What?" Alice asked, feigning confusion. "What do you have against Christmas decorations?"

"It's too early to decorate," I protested feebly. "Christmas is still... days away," I stared at the garland, already driving myself crazy as I tried to imagine what kind of a circus Alice had planned for holidays.

"Bella, Christmas is next week. Some people put up their lights before Thanksgiving," Alice pointed out, apparently trying to remind me that she was being rather reasonable about this – that she hadn't gone as far as she could have.

I sighed quietly. "Fine," I consented, idly thinking that she could be a lot worse. "Just as long as my house won't resemble a lamp shop when you're done."

"Excuse me," Alice grinned, giving me a mug that was full of hot tea. "I happen to have taste. You should have more trust in me by now."

"I have," I assured. "I'm just very lazy when it comes to decorating. Everything ends up looking silly if I venture to try."

"That's why you have me."

I smiled to myself – it was something between a pleased smile and a sad one. I was torn between those two emotions as I watched Alice skittering around my apartment, and I wished I could take a mental picture of her, just to return to this moment next year during Christmas time. Because I couldn't know if that was the only thing I got to keep with me; the only thing I got to hide somewhere in the corners of my heart. Just a fraction of time, a small, everyday moment among dozens of others.

Jasper turned to look at me. He narrowed his eyes, tasting the sudden melancholy in the air. Trying to banish the sadness and uncertainty, I toed the shoes off my feet and sunk to the couch, enjoying the warmth of the tea mug in my hands. Making a feeble attempt to fool Jasper, I pretended to be studying the row of photographs on the table under the window. Maybe to justify the grey thoughts full of longing. Maybe to see the faces of those who I rarely saw anymore, the faces of those who had once stopped by in my life and eventually left. Maybe to prove to myself that I was alive and breathing despite their departure, to prove that the longing didn't destroy me. That I learned to live with it if I tried hard enough.

_"There's something comforting about stability."_

Carlisle's words from days ago came back to me. They echoed in the folds my mind, roaming and seeking until forming a feeling of understanding. My mind reshaped them, and my ears heard them the way Carlisle had meant them to be heard; the way he himself had heard them.

"_To know that there's something constant in this world... I suppose it can have a calming effect on you." _

It was then and there when I completely understood what he had been saying. Sometimes it happened that you couldn't appreciate something until it was suddenly gone. I was usually all about living in the moment and not worrying about tomorrow, but that particular inclination to enjoy the present had a fault, a small fracture that was deep enough to scatter the wholeness. And I knew it, then. You couldn't live in the moment thoroughly and fully without recognizing what you had to lose. Sometimes you had to stop for a second or two to look around you and acknowledge, _appreciate_, everything you had, because the next time when you blinked, all that might be gone. You shouldn't live in the moment at the expense of the future. The world was full of things that were self-evident, things you could take for granted. But then there were things you should never overlook. I suppose life was divided to those two. To things that mattered, and to things that mattered even more.

I watched behind my tea mug as Jasper gave Alice a swift kiss. The look in his eyes was tender; the gold of his eyes melted as he looked at her. A soft sigh left my lips as I turned away. My feet worked on their own accord as I rose fom the couch and walked to the dark window. It drew me in. Not the window, but the darkness beyond it. The faint glow of the small yard lights played upon the thin veil of snow, daringly defying the winter and the darkness it brought with it. I didn't even realize that I was almost unintentionally looking for movement amongst the trees until Alice's voice crept to my consciousness.

"If you're waiting for Carlisle, don't bother," she said behind me. "He's currently at our house and might be gone for a few hours."

Clearing my throat, I turned to her and shrugged. "I wasn't waiting for him," I lied smoothly. "I just wondered if the sky is clear tonight. It'd be nice to see the stars."

The corner of Alice's lip edged up a bit. "There are no stars in the trees," she pointed out, sounding amused.

I rolled my eyes and ignored her comment, careful not to look at Jasper.

My evening passed by routinely. I'd brought some paperwork with me from the bookstore, and I finished it after writing myself a note about a few book orders I should take care of before closing the store for Christmas. At the same time I distractedly listened to Jasper's and Alice's playful bantering. It took me a while to realize that I was functioning on autopilot. My eyes were on the papers scattered in front of me, and my ears listened to the words that passed back and forth between Alice and Jasper. I gave a small laugh or a soft murmur at right places, but truthfully, my mind wasn't on the conversation or the words and numbers dancing on the papers. My mind was on the absence of something, _someone_, in the room.

I tried not to look too much into it. Alice had said that Carlisle was at their house in Ithaca. There was nothing strange about it. There was no reason for me to jump to conclusions and immediately think that he was avoiding me.

Any other night, I might have believed my own reassurances. In fact, if tonight had differed from the other evenings of the past two weeks, I would have believed my own words. But it didn't. Today seemed to pass exactly the same way like several previous days had.

Since my visit to the Cullens' house nearly two weeks ago, I'd barely caught a glimpse of Carlisle. The memory of his departure that evening, of the smile that hadn't reached his eyes, of the quiet sound when the door had clicked shut behind him... All those things still stung like acid. I'd begun to see a new pattern in my days; I'd wake up in the morning, walk to the bookstore with Alice, and in the afternoon I'd come back home again usually with Jasper. It's not that I minded their company, because I didn't. I enjoyed every moment I spent with them. But I had also enjoyed the quiet company of the man with golden hair and gentle eyes. Now I began to wonder if the feeling had been one-sided. Why else would he suddenly stay away?

I began to replay our conversations in my mind, wondering if I had inadvertently said something to make him feel uncomfortable. But eventually I came to conclusion that while our conversations were sometimes far from casual and ordinary, I didn't believe I'd said something that might have given him a reason to stay away. In fact, I thought I'd been particularly careful not to say or do anything that might make him feel discomfort in my presence.

"_I wouldn't have thought you believe in fate, Bella."_

"_Beauty does have a tendency to capture one's attention."_

"_You are not like most people."_

"_If fate is not worth tempting, what is?"_

"_Are you ever lonely, Bella?"_

A flicker of an inkling stirred somewhere within me. It made me wonder if it wasn't something I had said to him, but something he might have said to me that now made him want to stay away.

I was so lost in my ponderings that it took a while for me to notice the sudden silence that had fallen into the room. Alice's and Jasper's playful banter had ceased, and I glanced up from my papers, frowning.

Alice was sitting on the couch across the room. On the coffee table, there was a pile of pine twigs and pieces of red ribbon in front of her; it looked like she was in the middle of making a wreath. But something had made her abandon the task, and she was now staring at the floor with blank eyes.

Holding my breath, I met Jasper's gaze, and he lifted his finger to his lips. I sat still, watching Alice and waiting for her to come out of her trance-like state.

"Edward," she murmured. Her voice was confused, the name slipping from her lips sounding more like a question than a statement.

"Is he in trouble?" Jasper asked. His voice was calm, meant to reassure. But I saw the tenseness of his muscles. It looked like he was ready to spring into action immediately if the situation demanded it.

Alice shook her head, closing her eyes. She stayed that way a few seconds more. Her fingers rose to her temples, and she opened her eyes, looking like she was suffering from a terrible headache.

"That was odd," she murmured, locking her gaze with Jasper's.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Is something going on with Edward?"

Alice turned to me after exchanging one more confused glance with Jasper.

"I don't know," she answered, looking helpless. The sight made me troubled – Alice rarely looked so lost.

"I saw that strange woman again. The same one I saw a few weeks ago," she explained. "I still couldn't make out her face. And suddenly I saw Edward – a quick flash of his face."

"In the same vision?" Jasper asked. He had risen from the couch, holding his hand on Alice's shoulder.

Alice shook her head, frowning. "Not exactly. It was a different vision, but I saw it simultaneously. It was almost like two different frames on top of each other."

"Will he come across that woman? Is that why you saw him?" I asked.

She shook her head again. "I can't be sure, but I don't think so. I'd have seen it more accurately if he was going to run into her."

Jasper began to pace. I watched him mutely, studying the agitated expression on his face. His reaction to Alice's vision was uncommonly strong, and it confused me somewhat to see him so troubled. Because the vision hadn't been threatening, only obscure. That's why it surprised me to see him getting so tensed up about it.

"_He has a very tactical mind."_

Carlisle's words from days ago came back to me. They made me realize that Jasper might have a good reason to be so restless. Maybe he had figured something out – something Alice and I hadn't.

Jasper stopped his pacing, running a hand through his hair. Alice looked up at him, rising from the couch with one fluid motion.

"We have to find a way to contact Edward," he said. "We should warn him, just in case. It can't be a coincidence that you saw him simultaneously when you had the vision of that unknown vampire again. We still don't know who she is and what she's got to do with the situation."

"He's still out of reach," Alice said quietly. "I tried to call him this afternoon."

"Then I'll find him," Jasper stated, not at all disheartened after hearing Alice's words. "If you can tell me where he is – "

"I'm not sure about his current location. He keeps changing his mind," Alice informed, sounding annoyed. "Yesterday he was somewhere near Seattle."

"That's enough information," Jasper nodded. "It's easy to track him once I get close enough."

She nodded. They just stood there then, gazing into each other's eyes for a moment. They didn't kiss or embrace or anything like that, but the connection between their eyes was so intimate that it made me feel uncomfortable. It was like I was witnessing a moment that wasn't meant for my eyes.

"I'll inform Carlisle," Jasper said to Alice as he turned to leave. "Keep me posted."

"Be careful," I heard myself saying, feeling a compelling need to say something. I was still trying to get a grip of the situation. Everything had happened so quickly – one minute they'd been sitting on the couch and joking with each other, free from any tension, and now Jasper was suddenly leaving in a hurry.

The last mentioned gave me a nod as he opened the door. The sudden draft caused some of the papers on the kitchen counter to swirl in the air and fly to the floor, but I ignored them.

When Alice and I got to the door, Jasper had already disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

**AN:** The discussion between Bella and Jasper about a vampire's need to breathe is not my invention; I found the information elsewhere. One day I found this interesting community online called Fanon Wiki. There was an interesting article about the physics of Twilight vampires, called 'The Science of Twilight Vampires', and from there I found that while vampires don't need oxygen, breathing is still necessary for them. There is a lot of information about their physics, and even though I'm not sure if it's considered canon, I still think anyone who's intrigued by the Twilight Universe should read it.

Any theories about Alice's new vision? Or the reason behind Carlisle's sudden absence? Stay tuned... :)

I wish you all a peaceful Christmas and happy holidays!


	12. Conclusions and Coincidences

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**Never ignore a person who loves you,**_

_**cares for you, and misses you.**_

_**Because one day,**_

_**you might wake up from your sleep and realize**_

_**that you lost the moon while counting the stars.**_

\- Unknown -

* * *

**Conclusions and Coincidences**

A vague feeling of unrest shadowed my dreams, making me toss and turn in my bed. The feeling of something being amiss roused me from sleep before long, and I opened my eyes to see nothing but darkness around me. I suddenly felt like time had distorted, passing more slowly for me, because I had a feeling that I'd been asleep for a very long time.

However, one glance at the illuminated clock on the bedside table told me I was wrong. It was just after one in the morning, but for some reason I felt entirely alert. It took me a while for me to remember why I was feeling so restless, but after remembering Jasper's abrupt departure the previous evening, I scrambled out of bed and got dressed.

After washing my face with cold water, I opened the door of my bedroom and faced the pitch-black hallway. Brushing my fingers against the walls, I groped my way through the darkness until I arrived to the living room. My fingers fumbled for the light switch on the wall, and I cursed inwardly for not finding its location.

Someone else found one first. There was a quiet click across the room, and the small lamp on the table under the window began to spread warm light around the space, casting tender shadows on the walls.

Carlisle stood by the table, his pale fingers leaving the light switch. I let my hand fall to my side, noticing that I'd missed the switch I'd been looking for by two feet.

I stood there for a moment or two, just looking at him without saying a word, almost as if trying to adjust to his presence. It had been days since I'd last seen him.

Leaning my shoulder against the wall of the hallway, I tilted my head slightly and smiled. Carlisle quirked his brow, for a short while looking almost surprised. It was almost like he'd been expecting reproaches instead of a smile.

"Hello, stranger," I greeted him. The words escaped before I managed to stop them. I hadn't planned to make a remark about his long absence – I didn't want him to know that I'd payed attention to it that much. I didn't want him to know that I'd missed his company. Admitting it to myself was hard enough.

Carlisle lowered his eyes to the floor, a veiled expression coming over his face. But a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips – I noticed he looked almost sheepish, like a young school boy who had been caught doing something very wrong. Laughter bubbled somewhere in my chest at the thought, wanting to break free, but I settled for smiling.

"Morning, Bella," he answered softly, raising his gaze. "This is a strange hour to be awake."

"I could say the same to you," I jested. Noticing a thick book in his other hand, I nodded towards it. "Or a strange hour to be reading, more likely. In complete darkness, if I may add."

Carlisle gave a soft laugh. "What can I say?" he countered playfully. "After sufferring nearly four hundred years from chronic insomnia, I am forced to find something constructive to do."

I smiled at his words, stepping out of the shadows of the hallway. "And reading in the dark is constructive?"

"No less than reading in the light."

Snorting softly, I made my way to the couch and sat down. Carlisle's eyes followed my movements, and I was suddenly very glad I'd decided to get dressed instead of showing up here wearing only a skimpy nightgown.

"Well, I have to admit it'd be cool to be able to read in the dark," I sighed, trying to banish the blush my recent thought had evoked. "My electric bills would be a lot smaller."

He smiled at my comment. His eyes were studying me again, searching my face, and for a moment I felt like he tried to compensate all the worried glances he hadn't managed to give me during these past two weeks. Almost like he tried to fit them all into one long gaze.

Questions danced on the tip of my tongue. _Where have you been?_ I wanted to ask. _Why were you gone?  
_

And... _Why are you here now? _

There was suddenly a flicker of something – regret, remorse? – in his gaze, as though he had sensed my thoughts. They were a different color tonight, his eyes. A darker shade of caramel, rich and deep. Powerful and intense.

I turned away to look at small cell phone on the coffee table to escape the hold of his eyes; they made me nervous. They made my heart beat with some strange turbulence, making me feel like I was swaying and rocking, and not at all smoothly.

"Have you heard anything from Jasper?" I asked, nodding towards the black cell phone.

He shook his head. "Not yet. He promised to contact us once he finds Edward."

The events of the previous evening worried me, and I hoped Alice's sudden vision of Edward didn't mean he was in trouble. "If he finds him," I murmured.

"He will," Carlisle assured quietly. "Jasper is a talented tracker."

His words of reassurance lingered in the air for a while, eventually disappearing into the silence. I gazed at the shadows forming on the wall across the room; they were all very still. Then one of them shifted, changing shape as Carlisle ran a hand through his hair.

"This is not the first time when I see you awake in the middle of the night," he noted quietly. The worry in his voice was well concealed, but I heard it anyway. "I hope you are not having trouble with sleeping."

"I'm a bad sleeper," I admitted, shrugging. "I've always been. Sometimes I feel like it's a waste of time."

His expression was something between amusement and curiosity. "I was under the impression that most people enjoy sleeping."

"Well," I grinned, "maybe it's like what you said that one night. I'm not like most people."

He smiled softly. "No," he said. "You are not."

I felt oddly warm as spoke the words. Flattered, even. I guess someone could have taken the words in a negative way. After all, many spent their lives striving to be similar to others; striving to blend in. It was rare that someone wanted to stick out from the crowd and be different. It was simply easier, safer, to be like everyone else. As I a child and teenager, it had become clear to me very early that I'd never belong to that certain stereotype where everyone else seemed to feel secure and comfortable. I'd never blended in, and I'd carried it with me like a burden. I'd always felt out of rhythm, staying one step behind from others and struggling to get on the same line with them. And those few times when I'd succeeded, I'd still felt out of step. I'd still felt like I didn't belong on that same line with them. It had taken me years to realize that maybe I needed a line of my own.

Shadows danced on the wall again as Carlisle shifted. He moved closer, placing the heavy book in his hands on the coffee table in front of me. It was the same book he had been reading over two weeks ago, the one that had seemed to intrigue him greatly.

I observed his expression as he sat down on the couch close to me. He looked pondering, his dark amber eyes studying the wall across the room. I noticed there was something different about him tonight, something that hadn't been before, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I studied him carefully, even though I knew the change probably had nothing to do with his looks. It was his inner appearance that had altered, but the change lied so deep that I couldn't reach it. But I sensed it, felt it like a touch of skin against my own.

Carlisle took a deep breath, to my surprise returning to our earlier conversation. "Sleeping and dreaming are one of those things I miss about being a human," he revealed quietly. There was a small smile on his lips as he spoke, but his eyes were suddenly sad.

The words caught me off guard - I hadn't expected him to say something like that. "What else do you miss?" I asked anyway, trying to conceal my bemusement. It occurred to me only then that the question was more or less personal. Maybe even a little too personal.

Carlisle didn't seem to think that I was being intrusive. He considered my question for a moment, drawing in a breath and folding his hands as if in a prayer. There was something deliberate about the gesture, but also something unintentional, spontaneous, at the same time.

"I miss the obligations – the responsibilities – I didn't have the chance to fulfill," he mused. For a moment he sounded almost surprised by his own answer. "Perhaps...I regret not having the opportunity to carry them out like I was supposed to."

His words left me mute. Or maybe it wasn't the words that confused me and reduced me to silence – it was the tone of his voice. He sounded almost... remorseful. It was so unlike him.

"Or maybe it's not genuine and sincere yearning," he continued quietly. "Perhaps those thoughts trouble me because I feel obligated. Still, even after all these decades." He was still staring at the wall across the room. Although, maybe it wasn't a wall to him right now. Maybe it was a window to his past.

After a moment he frowned, blinking, and then he turned to me as if he had suddenly remembered my presence. I got a feeling that the words had escaped him accidentally. Maybe he hadn't meant the topic to change into something so serious and profound.

"What were these responsibilities you feel like you should have fulfilled?" I queried cautiously. Uncertainty had conquered me – for someone who spends most of the time reading books, I had never been too good with words. I suppose it was the sudden twist of our conversation that threw me. I knew I should have been used to it by now – I'd noticed that our discussions had the tendency to take sudden turns.

Carlisle was silent for a while, long enough for me to begin to wonder if I had stepped over my boundaries by asking that.

"You know my father was a clergyman," he said eventually, quirking his brow slightly to make sure I remembered. Or course I did – the story I'd heard eight years ago about Carlisle's past was one of those things I remembered clearly.

I nodded.

"As the only son, I was supposed to follow in his footsteps as he grew old," he continued, drawing in a deep breath. "And I did, to some extent. However," he searched for words now, "I never met the standards my father had set for me. He saw my views and my understanding of certain matters as weaknesses. I should have seen evil where it didn't exist, and when I refused to do so, it disappointed my father. To him, showing kindness and compassion in inappropriate situations was foolish. According to his opinion, my approach was often flawed." He paused for a moment. "I used to wonder if the night of my change was a relief to him. The night when I left to lead the raid and never came back."

I held my breath. Edward had told me about that fateful night when Carlisle had been bitten by that ancient vampire. He had told me about the things that had led to it, but it felt somehow different to hear Carlisle himself talking about it. About his last night as a human.

"Did your father ever know what happened to you?" I asked quietly.

Carlisle shook his head, turning to look at me again. "I'm quite sure he presumed that I died along with the other three men who participated in the pursuit."

My lips felt cold. "What made you think that your death was a relief to him?" I asked. "You don't still believe it, do you?"

One side of Carlisle's mouth rose. The smile was wry; there was no joy in it. "I never knew whether or not he felt that way," he said. At first I thought he was trying to dodge my question, but then he continued. "But I used to both torment and comfort myself with the thought. Torment, because no matter our differences, I had no wish to be a disappointment to him. And as to comfort... Perhaps I thought that he'd find someone else to follow him. Someone who shared his views and respected him the way I never did."

His words disappeared into the silence. I watched the shadows looming on the wall; they were very still again. My mind was suddenly a chaos – a chaos of words and feelings. They were seeking a way out. Maybe to ease the turmoil. Maybe to sustain it.

"You were more faithful to him than he deserved," I heard myself saying. "You still are. Even after all this time."

Carlisle turned to me, his eyes meeting mine. The rich shade honey grew darker, dimmer. "Am I?" he asked. "Even if my possible remorse is born from obligation instead of devotion?"

"On the contrary," I stated, giving a brief, incredulous laugh. I couldn't understand how he could see the matter that way. "You said that you regret not being able to fulfill the responsibilities you were given. You said it yourself – despite your differences, he was still your father and you had no wish to disappoint him. Even though you disagreed with him about many things, it makes you sad to think that you might have done that – disappointed him." I paused for a while, observing his expression. It was indecipherable. "If that is not devotion, I don't know what is."

I had no way to know if my words reached him. He turned to gaze at the wall again, his eyes trailing along the outlines of our shadows.

"Maybe it was just an unfortunate coincidence that you got bitten that night," I continued. "Or maybe it was something that had a purpose behind it. Something that is bigger than any of us. Whatever it was, you can't deny that a lot of good things came from it. I can't even begin to guess how many lives you've saved during your life. That might have not happened if you hadn't become a vampire."

Carlisle ducked his head slightly, crossing his arms. "Who knows?" he still argued. But his voice was softer; he was thinking about my words. "Perhaps I could have become a doctor even if I had remained a human."

"I don't think so," I disagreed. He turned to look at me, then. I saw surprise in his eyes – he hadn't expected me to find an argument.

"I believe you would have followed in your father's footsteps," I stated. "You would have become a pastor after him, despite your own ambitions and interests. Because that's devotion. And you were devoted." I paused, watching his reaction. Or the lack of it – his face was like stone. But somehow I knew it was only a mask, a veil he had draped over himself to hide everything that lied underneath.

"Look," I tried again, now smiling. "A very wise man once said to me: 'Like evething else in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given.' And you've done exactly that." I quirked my brow. "If you don't listen to me, at least listen to yourself."

Carlisle gazed at me for a long while as he considered the words he had once spoken to me. There were eight years between that moment and this. Eight years full of happiness and sadness, full of goodbyes and hellos. Eight years full of life.

Eventually he chuckled quietly, shaking his head before looking at me again. "You're wise for one so young," he said softly, now a lighter tone in his voice.

I shrugged, happy to see him smiling again. "That's because I'm an old soul. You, for that matter, are not."

"Is that so?" There was a familiar glimmer in his eyes; my words amused him.

"Yes," I replied, smiling. "Your soul still has a lot of growing up to do."

Chuckling softly, he gave a condescending nod. A comfortable silence filled the room then, and I leaned my head against the back of the couch, closing my eyes. Despite the hour, I wasn't feeling tired, and I knew that I'd probably spend the next day in a sleepy stupor.

Opening my eyes, I saw Carlisle looking at the window, his eyes devouring the darkness behind it. There was a pondering expression on his face again, but it wasn't melancholy like before. He noticed that I was watching him and gave me a brief smile. I had that strange feeling again, of something being different about him. The change was so subtle I couldn't see it, but at the same time it was significant enough for me to notice.

There was suddenly something open and ingenuous about his eyes – something daring and bold. "I did not mean to sound earlier like I regret this life, the things it has given," he explained quietly. "If I questioned it, or if I had regrets and doubts about it, it would mean that I regret my family. And I do not." He paused for a moment or two, his dark butterscotch eyes studying my face. For some reason, it made me feel both self-conscious and secure – it was a strange contradiction. There was some odd determination about him as he spoke the next words. It puzzled me. "And if I regretted the choices I've made and the paths I've chosen throughout the years... it would mean that I regret meeting _you._"

I was holding my breath now. I didn't know if I did it on purpose or not, but I knew I needed to hear everything he had to say with perfect clarity. Breathing was secondary. Words, his and mine, were consequential.

"Wouldn't it have been much more simple?" I heard myself asking. "Wouldn't your and your family's life be much easier if you hadn't run into me eight years ago?"

Carlisle held my gaze steadily, not at all taken aback by my question. It was almost like he had expected it – almost like he had dared me to ask it.

"Life is never simple or easy," he stated. "If it were, it would not be worth living."

I had to agree with that. Even though I felt that my life was more or less uncomplicated, even effortless in a certain way, I had never shied away from taking risks or knowingly pursued a life that had no complications. I knew there was a way to balance those two – to live a life where you woke up every morning and went to bed every night feeling satisfied with what you had. It was inevitable that there would be bumps on the road, but I liked to think that they were there to test us, to find out if we were able to get up after the fall. Faltering, getting tangled in you own legs, was one of those things you just couldn't avoid.

"What about you?"

Carlisle's voice drew me away from my ponderings.

"Any regrets?" he asked, meeting my eyes as I looked at him. There was a light tone in his voice, but there was also something else in his words; hidden worry for my answer.

There was a sudden torrent of emotions, images and memories passing through me. It's been said that when you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes like a movie. It sounded strange to me that you had to be a second away from dying in order to do that, to reflect. To stop for a second to appreciate the things, the coincidences, the moments that had brought you where you were now.

I wasn't a second away from dying, but I saw the flow of time as it passed me by, bringing clear images with it. There was a memory from my childhood, of the day when I'd learned to swim; a blurry moment in the emergency room when I'd fallen from the tree and broken my shoulder; a brief flash of Renée's smiling face a moment after she'd married Phil; Charlie's face when he'd come to pick me up from the airport when I'd moved from Arizona to Forks; Edward sitting in the old rocking chair in the corner of my room; Alice bent over the table in our hotel room in Phoenix, drawing a sketch of the ballet studio where my steps had soon taken me; Carlisle stepping out of the shadows of the birch tree after eight years of absence...

My answer was clear. Somehow it had always been that – clear, obvious, unquestionable. But it was only now when I asked it from myself without a hint of fear in my heart, and it was now when I found the answer without having to seek it.

"No," I said to him. "No regrets."

Carlisle held my gaze, one side of his mouth pulling up. I could see that my confidence, my unshakable certainty, surprised him. I suppose it surprised me too, but it was a different kind of surprise. The feeling wasn't something that had snuck up on me and caught me off guard, or shaken me off balance like surprises usually did. This feeling of certainty was something that had built up with time. The years had built it – the years, the experiences, the moments that had taken place either by coincidence or by fate.

And last but not least, these few weeks that had gone by, these weeks that felt like a blink now... This short period of time that the Cullens had been present in my life again felt the most crucial of all. It almost felt like a closing to something that had begun years ago in the small, faraway town that was forever wrapped in grey clouds and drizzling rain. In a way, I felt like I was sealing that short period of time in my life, walking through a veil that separated the present time from the past. I could always stop, glance back and look through that veil, but I wouldn't pull it aside to return.

There was something final about the feeling; something conclusive. But yet I knew it wasn't an ending to something. If anything, it was a continuation.

To what? I didn't know.

And as Carlisle met my eyes, holding my gaze in his own, I quietly, shyly thought that maybe it was also a beginning.

To what? I didn't know that, either.

A large part of me was more than curious to find out.

* * *

"Damn you, Alice," I muttered under my breath as I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. After retrieving a chair and searching the upper cupboards that were filled with dishes and containers I never used, I had to accept my cruel fate.

Climbing down from the chair, I let out a resigned sigh and sat down.

Alice came dancing from my bedroom, her expression both innocent and cheerful.

"Were you calling for me?" she asked, her perky appearance making me feel even more tired than I already was.

"No," I stated sourly. "I was cursing the day you were born."

She gave me a confused look, pretending not to understand. I nodded towards the kitchen counter. She followed my gaze, her eyes landing on the jar of decaf coffee that sat next to the coffee maker.

"Without consulting me, you've replaced my regular coffee with a decaf version," I explained formally. "That is the worst crime that can be done in my world. Please explain yourself."

"Well, first of all: decaf if better for you," she began to clarify, still smiling for some reason or another. "You drink too much coffee anyway. And second of all: you're not wearing matching socks. The other one is black while the other is red. And that is the worst crime that can be done in _my_ world."

"It's my house," I quipped. "I can drink regular coffee if I want, and I can wear socks of any color if I want."

"You're cranky today," she noted with a light tone. "Withdrawal syptoms, I suppose."

I suppressed a growl of frustration, my eyes following her petite form as she skitted around the kitchen, preparing a cup of coffee for me. A cup of _decaf_ coffee. Even thinking about it made me yawn. I remembered that I had some regular coffee at the bookstore, and the thought of it managed to lift my spirits a little.

I wondered if I was really that addicted to caffeine, or was it just an assumption. What if I tore out the label of that jar and replaced it with one that had 'regular coffee' written on it? Maybe it'd have a placebo effect.

My irritation began to dissipate eventually, and when Alice handed me a steaming cup of warm drink and watched me take a sip, I was almost in a good mood again. Decaf or not, the coffee wasn't actually that bad, but I knew it would take a while until I was ready to admit that to Alice.

"You're tired this morning," she said after a while, studying me carefully as I nursed my coffee.

"That's why I'd have needed the regular coffee," I grumbled, glaring at her. She only rolled her eyes, giving me another pointed look.

"Maybe if you slept through the night instead of wandering around, you'd feel better," she stated, grinning. It was my turn to roll my eyes – of course she had to be aware of the deep and profound conversation Carlisle and I'd had the previous night.

She did have a point, though. I must have been really tired, because I didn't even remember falling asleep after our talk. I'd woken up from the couch this morning with a blanked draped over me. Carlisle must have covered me with it, and suddenly a blush was creeping to my face – I hoped I hadn't fallen asleep against his shoulder or anything. That would be embarassing.

"I suppose it's understandable that you're feeling restless," Alice admitted after a while. "You're not the only one."

"Still no word from Jasper?" I guessed, receiving a nod from her. But then she shrugged, not looking too worried.

"He's been gone only a few hours. I didn't expect him to get to Edward very quickly. Seattle isn't exactly in the neighborhood."

"So Edward went to Seattle, then?" Last night Alice hadn't been sure about his location – she'd said he hadn't made up his mind.

She nodded. "Last night, I saw him picking up a scent – a nomad, most likely – and now he intends to track him down. He wants to question him in case he knows something about Victoria."

I quirked my brow at her words – Edward's move seemed unsafe to me.

"He's not in danger," Alice reassured when she saw my worried expression. "I see him talking to the nomad, trying to convince him to trust him. The nomad is defensive and a little suspicios, but not aggressive."

"Isn't it unlikely that a nomad would know anything?" I asked.

Alice shrugged. "It's worth asking. They are constantly on the move, and they hear a lot of things and even come across other vampires every now and then. Therefore they know surprisingly much. It's different with those who are part of a coven, like us and the Denalis. We tend to keep to ourselves. Sometimes we encounter a vampire we don't know, but it doesn't happen that often." She fell silent for a while. "Carlisle has a few friends around the world, and some of them are nomads. Jasper knows many, too. But we don't see them very often – maybe once or twice in a few decades."

I remembered once wondering how many vampires there actually were in the world, hiding among humans. In many ways, they had their own world inside the human world – it creeped me out a bit. But I had to admit it was also fascinating.

My thoughts went back to Edward and his current situation. It unsettled me to know that he was about to confront an unknown vampire all alone. Luckily Jasper was on his way there.

"Maybe Carlisle should have gone with Jasper," I murmured, thinking that if all three of them were together, they'd be safer.

"He considered it at first, but then decided against it. He wants to be close to you in case something goes wrong here."

Something stirred within me, and the blood coursing through my veins was feeling suddenly warmer. I knew that Alice was more than capable of protecting me if the situation demanded it – Carlisle knew it, too. But still, he had wanted to stay. The knowledge of it was like a fluttering candle flame – small and simple, but large enough to illuminate an entire room.

That's how I'd begun to feel everytime the thought of him passed through my mind; illuminated.

I cleared my throat, avoiding Alice's eyes. She was watching me closely again, and her scrutiny made me feel uneasy.

"Is Carlisle in Ithaca?" I asked. He had left before I woke up, and I had an unpleasant feeling that the past two weeks would repeat themselves. That it would take several days before I'd see him again. I still didn't know the reason for his recent absence, and had it been intentional or not.

"He left for a quick hunt," Alice answered. "He'll be back in a few hours."

I nodded, opening my mouth to say something, but I snapped it shut again. Confiding in Alice seemed the most natural thing of all, but at the same time it felt so difficult. Mostly because I didn't know how to put everything to words.

"What's up?" she asked, frowning when she saw my expression.

"Nothing," I said, getting up to refill my cup. Even without any caffeine, I was feeling oddly wired. "I was just wondering if there's something going on with him," I explained after taking a deep breath. It took me unnecessarily long to pour a drop of milk into the coffee, and I tried to look nonchalant as I peeked at Alice behind the door of the fridge.

"With who? Carlisle?" Alice asked. She didn't answer my question, but instead made an inquiry of her own. "What makes you think that?"

Shrugging, I took a quick sip from the cup and burned my tongue in the process. "It just crossed my mind," I explained, trying to sound casual. "He was gone several days and I figured..." I let the words die away, observing her expression.

For some reason or another, she looked almost amused. "He hasn't been gone," she corrected. "He's come here every night after you've gone to bed."

I frowned, looking down at my coffee. "Every night?" I repeated.

"Yes," Alice assured. "Every night."

I was torn between relief and confusion when I thought about it. All these days I'd thought that he'd been absent, but in fact he'd been only one wall away. I just hadn't been aware of it. I'd automatically assumed that it had been Alice watching over me during the nights since she was the last person I saw before going to bed and the first person I saw when I got up in the morning.

Still confused about Carlisle's behaviour, I began to wonder why he had chosen to be present during the nights instead of the daytime. My suspicion that he was avoiding me for some reason or another refused to go away. But then I thought about last night – the quiet conversation on the couch, the shadows playing on the walls, the odd feeling of finality – and I realized that he hadn't been acting like a person who was trying to avoid me. He hadn't been withdrawn or remote, but in fact surprisingly open. Perhaps more open than he'd ever been before.

"_And if I regretted the choices I've made and the paths I've chosen throughout the years... it would mean that I regret meeting you."_

I found myself wondering the significance of the words that had been spoken in the middle of the night, with only the shadows to witness the moment. And there it was again – that odd sense of finality. Like his words had been something momentous, something that changed everything that there had been and everything that was to come. There had been an odd resolve in his words, almost like he had come to a decision about something.

Preoccupied by these thoughts, I idly watched Alice as she whizzed around in the kitchen and living room, rummaging through the cupboards and drawers and digging out vases for the flowers she's brought with her this morning. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed the smile rising to her lips. It held secrets, that smile, and as she noticed me watching her, she quickly veiled her expression with innocence.

It wasn't only when I'd finished drinking my coffee and was prepared to leave for the bookstore that I noticed the color of the flowers she'd brought. I watched her as she placed a bundle of daffodils in each vase. Her choice of flowers befuddled me – you usually saw daffodils only in springtime. They seemed a little out of place now when Christmas was less than a week away.

I brushed the thought aside, knowing that Alice could be a little unconventional about a lot of things. And besides, decorating the house with poinsettias year after year just because it was a traditional Christmas flower sounded a little boring even to me.

Or maybe she just happened to like daffodils that much.

This was what I thought until the afternoon came. I was just about to put out the lights and close the store when a middle-aged woman entered. The bell above the door jingled loudly as she emerged from the haze of the afternoon. It was snowing again, and I gave her a compassionate look as she lamented over her freezing toes. Then she seemed to realize that it was Saturday and I was supposed to close the store earlier. She apologized for holding me up, offering to come back on Monday.

I waved off her apologies, refusing to hear her suggestion. I'd never turn down a customer, no matter what the time was. Tossing my coat on the counter, I turned to her and asked about her wishes. It appeared that the woman, like many others this week, was in need for a quick solution when it came to gifts. Apparently she had a daughter who had recently become a florist and was looking for a book to give her for Christmas.

"I think I might have just what you need," I assured her with a smile, disappearing among the shelves. I didn't have that many flower-related books in stock, but luckily I found what I was looking for. I plucked a thick book from the shelf, remembering that I'd once browsed through it. It had all these beautiful hand-drawn pictures of hundreds of flowers, and next to their detailed pictures there was a comprehensive description about their characteristics and habitats, and even some information about what each flower symbolized.

It was really an accident that it happened then, as unlikely as it was. As I was pulling the thick book from the shelf, it slipped from my fingers, falling on the floor and opening to a page that had bright yellow flowers drawn on it. I was silently fretting over the covers and bindings, hoping that the fall hadn't caused any damage – it was the only copy I had. The thought occupied my mind so thoroughly that the page filled with small print and yellow drawings went almost unnoticed by me.

But as I was lifting the book from the floor, about to check if there was any damage, my eyes sweeped across the page by accident.

_'The daffodil, also called narcissus, is a medium-sized plant that...'_

I frowned at the words, an image of my kitchen and living room from this morning flashing in my mind. I remembered how Alice had filled the vases with bright yellow daffodils and spread the fruits of her work all over my apartment.

Something tempted me to read on, and I skipped the list of different varieties and their accurate descriptions, my eyes finding the small box in the corner of the page.

_'Daffodil being the first sign of spring, it represents chivalry, regard and hope. It is a symbol of rebirth, new beginnings and eternal life. A solitary daffodil predicts misfortune while a bunch of daffodils are a sign of joy and happiness.'_

Rebirth. New beginnings. Eternal life.

I wasn't able to decide whether or not Alice was being sneaky or not. I had an urge to roll my eyes at the words and browse through the book to find a flower that symbolized _discontent_ or _rebellion_ or _I-know-what-you're-up-to, _and then fill my apartment with a floral splendor of my own.

But then I remembered the strange smile on her lips, the contentment that had exuded from her. And I wondered; what was it that had made her look so... _happy_? What was it that had made her fill my apartment with flowers that symbolized things that shouldn't have been related to my life at the moment? Was it something she had seen in my future? Something she had not told me?

I thought about the strange feeling that had come over me last night – the feeling of something ending and something new beginning. I thought about Carlisle, the dark shade of honey in his eyes. I thought about the strange resolve in him, the determination that hadn't been there before. There had been some odd difference about him last night, difference I hadn't been able to explain.

A thought tried to form itself in my mind, but it slipped away just as I was about to reach it. I couldn't make heads or tails of the situation, let alone of my thoughts and feelings. My mind was a muddle as I wandered back to the counter, and I barely remembered to check the book if it had suffered any damage when I had dropped it. I asked the customer if she wanted the book to be wrapped in gift paper, and I eagerly grabbed at the distraction when she told me yes.

The bell above the door gave a gentle ting as she left, and after that it was way too silent. Thoughts began to churn in my head, making my mind shaky with confusion.

I kept telling myself that I shouldn't let some silly flowers affect me this way, because there was easily a chance that Alice's decor detail of the day hadn't been even intentional. I knew she might not even be aware of what a daffodil stands for.

But an inkling told me that she knew, because Alice's whims, as impulsive as they could be, were rarely random. It was almost like she was trying to make a statement about something.

Outside the window, the snow was falling more heavily. I lost myself in the sight, trying to clear my mind as my eyes followed the snowflakes floating through the twilight. I didn't know how long I sat there, but eventually the street lamps began to come on, creating a faint golden glow against the blue dusk.

A light tap on the door startled me. Someone pushed it open hesitantly, sending the bell jingling again.

I was more than surprised when I met a pair of golden eyes. Not golden like the street lamps outside, but golden like the sun at its setting. Golden like rays of light playing on rippling waves.

Quirking my brow, I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. I was dumbfounded, because a large part of me hadn't expected me to see him today. I had already prepared myself to accept that seeing Carlisle during daytime was somehow unattainable since he had seemed to make an effort to stay out of sight when I was awake. Last night was an exception, but that's because I had taken him by surprise. Because he hadn't expected me to wake up and find him in my living room, shrouded by the night.

I wondered what had made him abandon his new habit and come to me before the dusk had even set it.

Carlisle nodded at me as a greeting, tapping his shoes to get rid of the snow before coming inside.

"Hi," I said, trying not to gawk at him. The snowflakes clung to his hair, making him look like an unearthly being dropped from the heavens. "How was your hunting trip?"

"Good. Thank you for asking, " he answered with a pleasant smile. "It took longer than I estimated, though. I was supposed to be back earlier."

I glanced at the clock, surprised to see how quickly the afternoon had crept by. The closing time of the store had come and gone almost two hours ago.

"Is that the time?" I exclaimed, surprised when I realized how preoccupied I had been.

A smile tempted Carlisle's lips. "You must have a busy day behind you," he remarked, not aware that it wasn't the customers that had occupied my thoughts for the past two or so hours. I latched on the topic anyway, beginning to blather about the crazy day and in the process shrugging on the coat I'd abandoned on the counter earlier. Carlisle waited by the door as I put out the lights and turned off the coffee maker in the backroom. Alice had been one step ahead of me as always, replacing my normal coffee with a decaf version. I glared at the plastic jar for a moment before turning my back to it.

The snow billowed around us as Carlisle and I made our way through the park. The icy wind prickled my cheeks, and I buried my head in the hood of my coat, more than eager to get home. The restful park with winding paths and cozy benches had transformed into an icy world of snow and slippery footholds. The pavement under the fresh layer of snow was perilous, and I was close to losing my footing at least twice during the way home. By the time we got to the front door of my apartment, Carlisle had decided that it was best if he just held onto my arm and kept me steady until I was safely inside. He didn't make a comment about my clumsiness, but I could see from his small smile that he was tempted to. I wondered if it amused him that my propensity to end up on my rear hadn't disappeared during these eight years.

"Thanks," I murmured as he relinquished his hold of me and and reached out to close the door behind us. The howling wind stayed on the other side, and I was suddenly thankful that tomorrow was Sunday and my day off; the innocent looking snowfall seemed to be turning into a blizzard. As much as I had learned to enjoy the chilly weather of Buffalo, I had to admit that wading my way through the snow first thing in the morning didn't sound very tempting.

I barely had any feeling in my lips and nose as I peeled off my snowy coat. Carlisle gave me a sympathetic look as I rubbed my hands together and tried to get the circulation going. I almost missed the puzzlement in his eyes as he inhaled, then turned to give a baffled glance at my living room and kitchen.

His eyes took in the vases full of daffodils, a confused smile beginning to curve his lips.

"I recently suffered an Alice attack," I explained with a smile and shrugged. "Me and my apartment still haven't recovered."

He chuckled softly. "You'll live," he assured.

I quirked my brow at him. "Are you talking from experience?"

"Unfortunately."

We laughed good-heartedly, and then I busied myself with making tea, trying my best to ignore the screaming yellow flowers. And more importantly, the meaning behind them.

As the end of the week passed and a new one begun, it appeared that my earlier foreboding was unjustified. Against my suspicions, Carlisle didn't avoid me or wasn't absent like before. He kept me company and escorted me to the bookstore in the mornings, and sometimes he even stayed there with me for a moment. There was a distinct difference in his demeanor compared to last week when I hadn't seen him at all. It was almost like he had been hiding from something and now resurfaced to face it. I had no idea what that something was, and I definitely wasn't the one to bring up the subject – I was just silently happy that he was there, setting a comforting rhythm to my days once again.

One day Alice told me that Jasper had come back from Seattle. Apparently tracking down the nomad had been more challenging than they had expected, and once Edward and Jasper had reached him, he had been more or less reluctant to answer their questions. Soon the nomad had left, insisting to be left alone. Jasper had returned to Buffalo, and Edward had continued to Alaska after deciding to spend the holidays in Denali.

For some reason, I had a feeling that I got the shortened version of the story, and there had been more going on than Alice revealed to me. She was uncharacteristically short worded when she told me about the encounter with the nomad, making the alarm go off in my head. Or maybe I was just paranoid. Maybe the obscurity of the situation made me imagine things.

I had an urge to bring up the subject with her to find out if it was only my imagination, but I never got the chance. Because after a couple of days, it seemed that it was Alice's turn to be absent. Carlisle told me that she was still restoring and decorating the first floor of their house, and apparently she was in full swing after deciding to get everything done by Christmas. He also said that if I didn't want to end up hanging wallpaper or washing windows, I'd better not call her and ask how she was doing.

"Is that why you've been spending so much time here this week?" I asked him with a grin, only half-serious. "Because you don't want her to enslave you?"

He laughed. "I actually offered her my help – several times, if I may add – but she ordered me to get out. I found it rather out of place since I own the house."

"Oh, I see," I smiled. "You're homeless. That's why my tiny, secluded apartment appeals to you so much."

"No. It's the company that I find appealing."

Then he smiled warmly, and in that moment, I was too taken aback to answer that smile. But hours later, in the dead of night, as sleep was eluding me and I was lying in bed fully awake, his words kept coming back to me. They filled me with that same warmth I'd seen in his eyes. They chased away the sleep but not the dreams. They made the heart go wild in my chest, and I tried to will it to calm down, but it wasn't so easy.

Because sometimes your heart couldn't be silenced. Because sometimes when it had sped up and found the rhythm, it was impossible to stop it. Because sometimes your heart wasn't throbbing violently just to keep you alive. To sustain you, to keep you living and breathing.

Because sometimes when your heart was beating, hammering furiously in your chest and sending adrenaline and endorphins through your veins, it was for someone else. I knew this feeling; I recognized it. I welcomed it like an old friend. I had caught glimpses of it over the long years, but I had never truly discovered it. I felt frightened; I felt thrilled; I felt everything in between.

I felt alive.

* * *

**AN: **Happy Valentine's Day! :)

My monthly update is a bit (a lot) late and I apologize because of it. I'm way behind in my writing schedule (Believe me, I do have one. At least in my head.) and I do my best to keep up with it. I still try to post one chapter every month, but sometimes, like now, I may have to stretch that. I just wanted to let you know that even if my updates are sometimes late, the story is not abandoned.

_"You know my father was a clergyman."_ and "_Like evething else in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given."_ are quotes from Stephenie Meyer's book New Moon. The symbolic meaning of daffodils I found from a site called Teleflora.

I'm almost half done with my next chapter, and I'll do my best to finish it in order to post it here for you to read! :)


	13. Tempest

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

**_"Of course I'll hurt you. Of course you'll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other._**

**_But this is the very condition of existence. _**

**_To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. _**

**_To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence."_**

**\- **Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, _Manon, Ballerina _-

* * *

**Tempest**

The holidays passed more or less uneventfully, which was perfectly fine for me. I'd never liked a big fuss, but knowing Alice, I had prepared myself mentally for something. But when December turned to January and she didn't channel her pent-up energy on New Year celebration on anything, I got slightly worried. It made sense that vampires didn't necessarily celebrate Christmases and New Years the same way humans did, but I found Alice's passivity very uncharacteristic.

One Sunday afternoon, a few days into January, she arrived to pick me up from my apartment to take me to Ithaca again. When I sat down on the passenger seat, it took all I had not to cringe - the radio of the car was blaring at full volume. It confused me a bit since the Cullens had super-sensitive hearing. I watched Alice closely as she threw me a quick, somewhat distracted smile and turned the Mercedes around in my small yard. A small crinkle appeared between her brows as she monitored the rear view mirror and backed out the car. It was almost as if the task was requiring all of her focus. At first I thought she was having a vision, but the look in her eyes wasn't empty and absent like usually when she was searching the future. It was only oddly preoccupied.

I shrugged it off and looked out of the window, watching as the busy streets passed by. I almost made it to the highway before I had to reach out and turn down the volume of the radio. The raucous sounds of rock music quieted down.

Alice gave me a surprised glance, almost as if she had just now noticed how noisy it was in the car.

"Sorry," she said, her delicate fingers tapping against the steering wheel. "I didn't realize how loud the radio was."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "You've got to be deaf not to notice," I remarked. "Is something up?"

Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel again. "Of course not," she answered, and after that began to grumble something about the traffic.

During the hour that it took to get to their house, I made a few attempts to start conversation, but with little success. It was obvious that something was troubling her. Needless to say, it made me concerned.

"Look, if something's happened, you might as well tell me," I said after receiving one more distracted response to my small talk attempts.

Alice sighed. I expected another absent-minded 'Everything's fine' -comment. Instead, she surprised me.

"I'm frustrated," she admitted, for a short moment looking almost crushed. "That's all."

"Why?" I inquired, confused.

She remained silent for a while, her golden brown eyes glued to the windshield. Suddenly she signaled right and turned onto a secluded side road. She stopped the car, leaving the engine running.

"I've let you down, Bella," she burst out, making me even more puzzled than I already was.

"What do you mean?" I asked, giving an unsure laugh. "What is going on, Alice?"

"We are not certain. No news there." She sighed again, rubbing her temples as if she were in physical pain.

I waited silently for her to resume. Quiet drumming filled the silence when her fingers tapped against the steering wheel again. "Remember when I told you about the nomad Edward and Jasper tracked down in Seattle before Christmas?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "You said they didn't manage to get much out of him."

"And they didn't. He refused to speak. But before he bolted, Edward managed to read his mind. Or get a short glimpse of it, more likely."

Raising my brow, I turned my upper body towards her as if to hear her better. A heavy feeling of foreboding crept over me.

"As you know, Edward's been adamant about finding out if Victoria has something to do with the vision I keep having of you," she began to explain. "He and Jasper questioned the nomad about her, trying to find out if he's come across her during his travels. The nomad got instantly very defensive as they described Victoria's appeareance to him. Jasper told me that he got extremely nervous, even frightened."

"Why?" I asked. "Is it possible that Victoria is a threat to him?"

Alice bit her lip. "I don't think that's the case now. Not the way you mean, anyway." She glanced outside of the car window, cutting the engine. Another sigh escaped her lips. "When Jasper was giving the nomad Victoria's description, Edward monitored his thoughts, hoping they would reveal something to them. And he wasn't wrong. Edward said that as soon as Jasper had mentioned Victoria, memories began to arise in the nomad's mind. Memories of a fight that involved a large group of vampires."

An odd sensation of chill swept over me. "A fight?"

Alice nodded. "We are not entirely sure what happened. Jasper has strong suspicions, but we can't confirm them. However, he believes that the group of vampires Edward saw in that nomad's memories was a vampire army. And the nomad was possibly part of that army."

"Why were they fighting?" I asked, not knowing what to ask first. My mind was teeming with questions. "And what's with the army? I was under the impression that huge covens are unusual among vampires."

"They are. Most vampires live alone or in pairs. However, it wouldn't be the first time someone created an army for their own use."

A shiver danced up my spine. "_Created_?"

Alice nodded. "Jasper knows a lot about these things - you should ask him if you have more accurate questions in mind. In any case, he believes that the vampires were newborns, created on purpose. As you know, it's not against our laws to create a new vampire, just as long as the creator keeps the newborn in control. In this case that wasn't accomplished. A large number of vampires, let alone a group of newborns, are bound to alert attention. That's why Jasper believes that the fight Edward saw in that nomad's mind wasn't just any scuffle - it was an execution."

I licked my lips; they felt cold. "An execution?" I asked.

Alice's eyes sweeped the scenery outside the car window. Trees covered with snow bordered the graveled road ahead of us, and I idly thought that the view was like from a postcard. I had a feeling Alice barely saw it. When she turned to look at me again, an inkling had stirred in the back of my mind.

"The Volturi," she stated, confirming my hunch. "Somehow the nomad had managed to escape them, but not before he'd witnessed the destruction of the army. It's very likely that the newborns had caused a lot of havoc among humans and attracted attention with their behaviour. The Volturi were forced to interfere." She paused, holding my gaze. "At first Jasper thought that the nomad was afraid of Victoria since he got nervous when she was mentioned. But it seems that the memory of the Volturi and their actions was the reason for his fear. He probably never even knew who they were, let alone why they killed the army he was part of. He's probably afraid he'll face the same fate."

I drew in a slow breath, slightly befuddled. "I'm still a little lost," I confessed, trying to absorb everything I had heard during the last minutes. "How does Victoria fit in? Did she create that army? And _why_?"

"Victoria might have been behind the idea. But I don't believe she was the one who created the newborns. She's not a fool - she knew I'd have seen it if she was going to do something so drastic," Alice mused. "She must have had someone to help her so she could operate in the shadows. Someone who made all the major decisions for her to keep me in the dark. To ensure that we would be caught off guard." She paused, her eyes fixed upon the snowy scenery ahead of us. "And as for why... I think we both know what her goal possibly was."

An involuntary chill went through me, making me shudder. Alice gave me a glance, starting the engine again. Warm air began to fill the space, but the cold clung to my skin like a blanket.

Mutely Alice began to look for a spot where to turn around, and within moments we were back on the main road.

"So Victoria went through all that trouble to have an army of vampires at her disposal," I murmured after a while. "But why would she? Why an army?"

Alice turned to look at me, the expression on her face portraying uncertainty; she wasn't sure what I was trying to say.

"You're clearly implying that her plan was to revenge James' death by killing me," I explained. "But she wouldn't have needed an army to accomplish that. She could have done just fine on her own."

"Maybe it's like you said a few weeks back," Alice pondered. "Maybe she didn't know we left Forks. Maybe she thought that she'd have to eliminate us before she could get to you. And besides, I'm sure the idea of taking us out in the process was more than appealing to her. Two birds with one stone."

"I suppose," I agreed quietly. A question was burning my lips. I had to wonder why Alice hadn't answered it alrealy; I knew she had to know what kind of a question I was harboring. "So?" I pressed when she stayed silent. "Where is she now? Victoria?"

Her fingers tapped against the steering wheel again. "According to the recollections of that nomad, she died along with the army."

A wave of relief swept over me. Victoria was dead. _Dead_. I found it more than hard to believe. Giving a deep sigh, I idly thought that it was one name I could cross off my list of things to worry about.

Alice didn't look too relieved. She slowed down the speed, turning the car onto the winding dirt road that led to their house. For a short moment I lost myself in the sight of trees sleeping under the snow, but a small sigh next to me made me look away from the view.

"Ever since I had that vision of you last fall, I've kept searching for Victoria. Now we know why I never managed to see her future. It's likely that the Volturi destroyed her and the army several years ago, probably soon after we had left Forks."

Behind the trees, I caught a glimpse of their beautiful, old house. I observed Alice as she parked the car, and something about her expression made me remember the words she had spoken earlier. The words that had started this conversation.

"Alice," I said when she tugged at the handbrake and cut the engine. "Earlier you said to me that you've let me down. What would make you say something like that?"

She gave me a look that was an embodiment of a thousand apologies. "What if the Volturi hadn't intervened, Bella?" she asked. "What if Victoria had managed to implement her plan and attack you - with dozens of newborns? You would've been all alone and defenseless because we left you unprotected."

I stayed silent for a minute, not knowing what to say. Finding out that years ago I'd possibly been a hair's breadth away from dying and not even aware of it... A revelation like that could have a tendency to leave one speechless.

"You couldn't have known what she was planning," I offered. The words sounded lame, but at least they were sincere.

"But we did. We killed her mate, Bella. We weren't going to assume that she'd let a thing like that go by. I don't think you understand how durable the bond between two mates can be. Vampires are vengeful by nature. That particular trait is almost built-in in us. Her measure of retaliation was more a probability than a possibility. And we made a horrible mistake by having too much trust in my ability to see her intentions beforehand. It didn't occur to me that she might find a way to evade my visions." She fell silent, holding my gaze relentlessly. "I'm sorry, Bella. It was my overconfidence that put your life at risk."

"It doesn't matter anymore," I insisted, my voice quiet but firm. "The Volturi put an end to whatever she had in mind. She's gone. You have no reason to be sorry because there's nothing to be sorry about. I'm safe."

"At the moment," she granted, her tone nothing but warning. "Of course I'm relieved to know that Victoria isn't behind the vision I keep having of you. But it only means that someone else is." She held my gaze for a while more, as if to make sure I understood how serious the situation still was. Then she exited the car, and before I had the chance to turn my head, she was already holding the passenger door open for me.

"It's not like things are that different," I noted as I got out. "I mean... It's not like the situation's gotten somehow worse. At least we now know for certain that Victoria's out of the picture. I'd call that progress."

A shadow appreared in Alice's eyes. She looked like someone who was about to bear bad news, a fleeting look of anxiousness passing on her face. Something seemed to hold her back, though, and I knew she probably didn't want to worry me more than necessary. While I appreciated her thoughtfulness, honesty was something I valued more. I didn't want anyone to tiptoe around me.

"How come you didn't tell me about this sooner, anyway?" I queried as we walked across the yard towards the veranda. "If you've known about this since before Christmas..."

She shook her head, shrugging. "I kind of hoped I'd have something more concrete to tell you by now. Something useful that would bring us closer to solution." She stopped in front of the brick stairs leading to the veranda, turning to look at me. Her next words, as ominous as they were, didn't frighten me. If anything, I was left even more confused.

"And like you said... The situation hasn't gotten any worse," she stated. "In fact, it's been this bad all along."

A frown formed between my brow. "What do you mean?"

She appeared to be on the verge of answering, but then turned to look at the front door. It opened with a quiet creak, revealing Carlisle behind it.

"Bella," he greeted. His smile was genuinely warm, but there was some sort of tension in his eyes as he cast a quick look at Alice. My gaze flicked between the two. There was no question whether or not they were having a wordless conversation with each other – I saw it from their faces.

However, it was a short conversation, even for a wordless one. Alice began to usher me in, and Carlisle stepped aside to hold the door open for us. I exchanged a swift look with him as I climbed the stairs to the porch. He was still smiling, as if seeing me again pleased him greatly. But the look in his eyes was somehow torn. Almost like he couldn't choose between delight and worry as he looked at me.

The expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared, though. When Alice and I had gotten inside, he closed the door behind us, shutting out the cold air.

As Alice dragged me through the foyer, momentarily seeming to be her old bubbly self again, I kept thinking about the fleeting flicker in Carlisle's eyes. For some reason something about it haunted me. I idly thought that the last time I'd visited the old house, I'd felt charmed by it. But now I felt like I was walking into someone's funeral - the atmosphere of the house was almost grim.

And I wasn't enchanted. I was worried.

The first ten minutes or so passed with Alice leading me through the first floor and explaining what she had done to the house since my last visit. At least half of her words went in one ear and came out the other as I tried to get rid of the strange feeling of apprehension that kept creeping over me. Something was nagging at me; a thought left to be revealed. There was something about Alice's earlier nervousness that didn't add up, not to mention the swift look in Carlisle's eyes a moment ago. Surely it was understandable that the information about Victoria's attempt to raise a vampire army was keeping them on their toes. But since she was dead, there shouldn't have been a reason for them to worry about it anymore.

_"The situation hasn't gotten any worse,"_ Alice had said outside. _"In fact, it's been this bad all along."_

I had missed something important. The frustrating thing was that I had a feeling I already knew about it, but the knowledge was just beyond my reach and I was unable to grasp it.

Trying to ignore the feeling and convince myself that I was being paranoid, I focused on Alice as she gave me a little too detailed description of the renovation of the living room floor. She seemed to be her old self again - seem being the key word. I couldn't help but notice the look of unease that passed on her face every now and then. And I knew I wasn't the only one feeling edgy.

I observed her carefully as I said something complimentary about the living room floor she had renovated.

"The original floor was gorgeous, but a little too worn for my taste," she explained with a small smile. "I swear it looked like someone had been skating on it."

I gave a soft laugh. "Well, at least it gave you a good reason to renew it."

"True," she admitted. "But it took me _two_ _days_ to decide what kind of wood I should use - oak, maple, hickory? So many options."

"Just two days?" I grinned teasingly. "I'd have thought you'd consider at least _two weeks _before making an important decision like that."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "It _is_ an important decision. You can always paint the walls or get rid of ugly furniture. But the floor... Your'e going to walk on it and stand on it the entire time you're in the house. It's important what it looks like."

"You could have covered the old one with a carpet," I kept teasing her. "Would've saved you a lot of work."

She nudged me with her elbow, bridling. "You're worse than Jasper."

Laughing, I reached out and gave her a one-armed hug. "Sorry. I was just kidding. It looks great - the entire house does. You should make a career out of this."

She relented, giving me a smile. "Esme and I were planning on it once, but we haven't gotten around to it yet. Maybe someday."

"Well, you have all the time in the world," I grinned.

Alice's smile fell. I looked at her questioningly, wondering about the change in her. But then the look on her face changed, as though a switch had been flicked. I turned to give a confused glance at Carlisle who I expected to stand somewhere behind me. But that's when I noticed that he was gone. It was odd; he'd followed us to the living room, and just a while ago he'd been standing near the door. I'd never get used to how silently the Cullens could move when they wanted to.

Clearing my throat, I looked back at Alice and waited until I had her attention. She was opening the curtains of the only window in the room, letting the late afternoon light in.

"So," I began when she turned to me again. "You didn't invite me here just to show off the new floor. Not that it's not worth looking at," I jested, trying to keep my tone light.

She didn't shy away from my eyes - it was something I had almost expected. "What makes you say that?" she asked, but her tone was conceding; she didn't even try to deny my words.

"A hunch," I replied and gave her a wry smile. I was unconsciously standing more straighter, lifting my chin - doing all those silly things you did when you wanted to give a strong impression of yourself. I was also holding my breath, preparing to hear the bad news. I didn't even begin to guess what those possible news could be. That was the nasty thing about hunches - they could only tell you so much. They didn't reveal the entire story to you.

Alice was biting her lip. I'd never seen her do that. "Carlisle wants to talk to you about something," she said. "He's upstairs. You know the way."

I gave her a nod, my mouth forming a smile I didn't feel. My feet worked on their own accord as I turned around and made my way out of the living room. The hallway leading to the staircase was familiar to me from my last visit, but I suddenly felt like I'd been dropped into a maze. My feet remembered the way, but my mind didn't; I was merely a passenger as I continued forward.

Hesitating at the bottom of the stairs, I looked around me and realized how quiet it was in the house. I kept listening for the familiar sound of traffic that was usually heard in my small apartment, but it was almost eerily silent in here. As I climbed the stairs to the third floor, only the sound of my quiet breaths and soft footsteps echoed from the walls. The silence that seemed almost unnatural made me remember how isolated the house really was, far outside of the main roads. I knew the Cullens liked it that way, but for me it would take some getting used to. While I liked being alone sometimes, I also enjoyed company. It felt strange to know that the usual commotion and bustle of people wasn't within walking distance like usually. When Adrian and I had parted ways after our stormy relationship and when he had moved out, I remembered how lonely I'd sometimes felt. And all I'd needed to do then was to open my front door and hear the noisy bedlam of the streets. And instantly, I'd felt better.

But there were no noisy streets now, no explosion of voices to keep the restlessness within me at bay.

Lost in my thoughts, I ran my hand along the smooth, curved banister and climbed the last few stairs. I stopped for a moment, admiring the rich red tones of the walls. It was really difficult to tell what was original in the house and what was added later - Alice had done a marvelous job with everything.

Just like on my last visit, the doors along the hallway were open except for the one. The door of Carlisle's study at the farthest end of the hall was closed. As I neared the room with calm steps, I noticed that something was different. A familiar-looking wooden cross was hanging on the wall above the door, its dark color complimenting the rich tone of the wall behind it. I realized it hadn't been there on my last visit. I remembered my curiosity when I'd first seen it in the Cullens' house in Forks all those years ago. _You can laugh_, Edward had said when I'd spotted it.

I hadn't laughed. But now I smiled, like the aged cross was a friend long lost. I was far from a religious person, but for some reason it felt nice to see something familiar right now. And the cross reminded me of Forks; it reminded me of home.

The door ahead of me gave a quiet whine as it opened, shaking me from my thoughts. Carlisle appeared, giving me a small nod as a greeting.

"I'm just bathing in nostalgia," I explained with a laugh and nodded toward the cross.

He smiled softly. "I see," he answered, stepping aside to let me enter. "Come in."

As I walked into his study, the feeling of worry that had welled inside me for the past moments lost its sharpest edge. My trail of thought was another thing I lost. The hundreds of books filling the shelves were calling me in, but I resisted their invitation. Determinedly turning my attention away from them, I looked at Carlisle. For my surprise, I caught him hiding a smile.

"What?" I asked, a little defensively.

"Nothing," he answered, quirking his brow innocently. "It's only that most who enter this room tend to turn away quickly, apparently deeming it uninteresting. You're a welcome exception."

I gave a laugh. "You're clearly spending your time with wrong people, then," I returned his jest and smiled. It made me want to kick myself - I didn't want him to think I was flirting with him. Because I wasn't. Right?

"Perhaps," he agreed with a smile and closed the door. Then he stopped and tilted his head slightly, as if to hear something better.

I received an explanation to his behaviour when he turned to me again after a second or two. "Alice informed that she's leaving for a quick hunt with Jasper." A small smile curved his lips again. "I'd rather not repeat what she said about our mutual passion for reading."

"Her opinion is pretty predictable," I replied. The feeling of unease returned, sharper. I had to wonder what Carlisle wanted to talk about if Alice and Jasper felt the need to give us privacy. Our playful conversation began to feel like empty small talk. Like meaningless words to avoid the impending, unpleasant conversation. The one we should be having.

Suddenly I felt like I couldn't keep still, and I began to wander around the shelves, aligning the books that weren't fully straight. It was a simple, familiar function, something I did at the bookstore all the time. It usually calmed my nerves, but not this time.

When Carlisle inquired about my weekend, and I latched onto the topic, grateful for the distraction. I told him that my mom had called yesterday; it had been her usual check-up call to make sure I was still alive and well. If she didn't hear from me often enough, she got worried and thought I had run out of money and died of hunger.

"I feel like it should be _me_ calling _her_ to make sure she's doing okay," I said to him, half-serious. "Not that I could reach her very easily - I can't even count how many times she's called me from a payphone because she keeps losing her cell. I should have Phil bolt it up on the wall or somewhere else where she can see it."

Carlisle gave a good-hearted laugh. "She sounds like a handful."

"That she is." I walked over to yet another bookcase, scanning out the titles without actually focusing on what I was reading. Any other day, any other time, I could have enjoyed our idle chit-chat, but now I was simply too worried, feeling like a bundle of nerves about to snap.

I slipped out from between the shelves and wandered closer to the wooden desk situated in one corner of the room. Carlisle was half sitting on the edge with his arms crossed. I was trying to summon words to ask what was going on when he caught me off guard, meeting my gaze and holding it with a strange intensity.

"Do you miss her very much?" he asked, smiling softly. "Your mother?"

I leaned my shoulder against the end of one shelf, wavering. I felt ambushed by the question, as simple as it was.

The answer was simple as well. "Yeah," I replied. "I do."

Carlisle nodded, the expression on his face suddenly regretful. "I'm sorry that the situation has kept you from seeing her, and your father as well. I'm sure you looked forward to see them on holidays."

"It's fine," I assured. "It's been years since I've spent Christmas with them, anyway. Renée and Phil like to travel during that time and Charlie is starting his life with Sue. They won't miss me," I assured, giving a small laugh.

Carlisle shook his head. "I don't believe that for a second," he disagreed.

"Don't worry about it," I insisted. "It's better this way. If someone is after me, I want to be nowhere near my parents. Just in case."

"I understand that." Avoiding my eyes, his arms tightened across his chest as if he were deeply troubled. He probably was.

I didn't want to be the one adding his distress, but nonetheless I took a deep breath and began to talk. I couldn't tiptoe around the subject for long anymore.

"Speaking of the situation," I said. "On our way here, Alice told me what Jasper and Edward found out in Seattle."

Carlisle nodded. "I'm aware," he murmured. I waited for him to continue, but for my surprise he stayed silent. His pensiveness confused me.

"I was a little surprised to hear what Victoria had planned," I said, making a new attempt to start the conversation and hoping that whatever seemed to weigh his mind would be revealed to me eventually.

His shoulders rose and fell as he gave a deep and soundless sigh. "It surprised me as well," he confessed. "Although, perhaps it shouldn't have."

I studied him carefully as he spoke, recognizing the shadow of worry in his eyes; he'd looked just like that when he'd opened the front door for Alice and me when we'd arrived. I watched him uncross his arms, then cross them again, as if staying still was a feat he was incapable of right now. He seemed to be feeling as restless as Alice had been in the car on our way to Ithaca. Needless to say, it baffled me. A fidgety vampire, let alone two of them, was a notion I hadn't been prepared for. And not understanding the reason behind that unease... it was unsettling to say at least.

Maybe Victoria's intention to raise a newborn army and then attack me with it just horrified them that much. It horrified me - I didn't even bother to pretend that hearing about it hadn't affected me at all. I wasn't that fearless. I had some sense of self-preservation even though it always didn't seem that way.

But something told me that it wasn't plain concern for something that had happened years ago that made them now behave the way they did. Suspicion raised its head again, an inkling telling me that I was still missing something important. Or _ignoring _something, more likely. It had something to do with what Alice had told me in the car on our way here. I replayed our conversation over and over in my head, but to no availl.

_"The situation hasn't gotten any worse,"_ she had said outside before Carlisle had appeared. _"In fact, it's been this bad all along."_

What had she been trying to say?

Clearing my throat, I sauntered closer to the desk where Carlisle was still sitting with his arms crossed. Recalling his last sentence, I searched for words to give him a response.

"I don't think anyone could have expected Victoria to go that far," I offered. "I mean, even Alice didn't see it coming."

He nodded. "It is worrisome that she found a way to get around Alice's visions. And by the time she would have seen what Victoria was up to, it would have been too late."

"Maybe. But I guess fortune was on our side. Victoria failed because the Volturi stopped her."

Carlisle nodded, his face growing more grim.

"What is wrong?" I asked finally, deciding that direct approach would probably give me answers. "Why is everyone acting so weird?"

He flickered a glance at me, brushing a hand through his hair. Fixing his eyes upon something behind me, he straightened himself up in one fluid movement. His steps were measured and calm as he neared me, rubbing his chin in a very human-like manner. Staying silent, he kept staring over my shoulder off into the distance. I misread his actions, thinking he was avoiding my eyes and not wanting to answer my question.

"Look," I said, some of the tension creeping into my voice. "There's obviously something going on. It's really not that hard to notice. Alice was acting all weird on our way here - I've never seen her like that. And don't tell me it's because of what you found about Victoria. I know she's not the one you're worried about, because by all accounts, she's dead. I'd really appreciate if you just told me what's going on instead of keeping me in the dark."

He listened to my outburst without a word. When I was finished, he met my gaze for the shortest of moments before dropping his eyes to the floor. He came closer, walking slowly past me and giving me no choice but to turn around in order to see him. He met my glance, tilting his head toward the wall opposite of his desk.

"It is not my intent to hide anything from you," he said quietly. "I promise I will tell you everything you wish to know. Come."

I frowned at his words, but followed him without a protest as he led me past the towering shelves to the only wall that wasn't covered with books.

Paintings hung from the mahogany paneled walls. My eyes scanned the beautiful sceneries captured on canvases. They were already familiar to me from my last visit. But there was one painting, also recognizable to me, that I hadn't payed attention to the last time I'd been here. Maybe I'd been too occupied to notice it. Whatever the reason was, it had been rather illogical of me to ignore it since the painting was the largest one in the room, and somehow the most striking of them all.

Carlisle came to a halt in front of it. I stopped beside him, my eyes beginning to study the swirling colors of the painting. The four calm figures at the top of it provided a nice counterbalance to the chaos unraveling below them. For one fleeting moment, I was in Forks again, standing beside Edward and staring at the mayhem of colors and shapes for the very first time.

_"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods." _The words once spoken aloud were tailed away into whispers by the long years, the softness of his voice only a blurred remnant of my memories. _"Aro. Marcus. Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts."_

It was easy to understand why the artist had felt compelled to perpetuate this uncommonly beautiful and mysterious group of men on canvas. I studied the three, unfamiliar men standing on the high balcony and watching the surging chaotic mass of people with an unnatural calm. My gaze gravitated toward the fourth man in the painting; the only one who I truly recognized and knew and the only one who didn't have that disturbing indifference in his eyes.

The same man stood beside me now, the look on his face mirroring the expression he had in the painting. Benevolent, honest eyes. Calm and collected, but not cold.

He turned to look at me then, as if to ask me if I remembered the painting; if I remembered the day when I'd first set my foot in their house in Forks. It was like asking me if I remembered my own name. Because of course I remembered. Some things were impossible to forget.

"Why did you want to show me this?" I inquired quietly.

Carlisle was regarding the painting with a thoughtful expression. "How much did Alice tell you on your way here?"

I began to enumerate the things I remembered off the top of my head. "She told me that the nomad Jasper and Edward encountered in Seattle once knew Victoria. Edward read his mind and found out that the Volturi destroyed the newborn army he once was part of." I paused, replaying the conversation in my head. "Alice believes that someone else besides Victoria created those vampires, thus explaining why she couldn't see her intentions beforehand." I fell silent, wondering if he wanted me to remember something in particular.

Carlisle crossed his arms, beginning to explain. "If there had been more time or if the nomad had been more cooperative, Edward would have gotten a more clear picture of what exactly happened. However, it is certain he saw some of the members of the Volturi in the nomad's memories."

I quirked my brow, still not sure where he was going with the conversation.

Rubbing his chin, Carlisle casted another look at his old acquaintances. "While we are more than relieved to know that Victoria is no longer a concern, the Volturi's interference possibly caused another problem for us."

"What kind of a problem?"

He pondered for a short while, searching for words. "The Volturi operate in a certain way," he began to explain. "When a crime has been committed, such as if someone creates an immortal child, draws attention by hunting incautiously or creates a newborn and doesn't watch over their creation, the Volturi will find out about it before long. Depending on the seriousness of the crime, they usually send a small group of vampires from their guard to take care of the problem. The three leaders of the Volturi," he paused, nodding toward the three inhumanly beautiful creatures in the painting, "rarely feel the need to leave Italy to carry out the punishments, or even attend as observers. They rely on their key members, each with a unique talent, to take care of the violators."

"Like a flying squad," I murmured, more to myself than him. I was curious about what he had meant by an immortal child, but I bit back the questions, wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say.

"It's not often that the Volturi have to make a decision to execute an entire army of vampires," he continued. "It has happened before, but not for a very long time. Now I fear that the unusual situation made them curious. That's why it's possible that the leaders were present during the execution in the hopes of getting a better picture about the situation."

"And that's bad?" I guessed.

Carlisle frowned. "Possibly," he answered. "Our problem is that we can't confirm if the leaders were present or not. Edward only got a short glimpse of the nomad's recollections. It didn't make it easiser that the nomad was quick to suppress any memories of the execution - most likely he did it out of fear. And then he fled." He paused, turning to look at me. "Edward's never met any of the Volturi in person, but he was able to describe the appearance of four vampires to Jasper, and later to me over the phone. We confirmed them as the members of the Volturi guard. The leaders weren't among those four, but it doesn't mean they weren't present."

"I still don't get what's wrong," I admitted, wondering if I was just too simple-minded to understand what the problem was. "How is it significant if the leaders of the Volturi attended the execution or not?"

A disturbing feeling of foreboding had followed me ever since I'd sat in the car next to Alice this afternoon, and that feeling was now stronger than ever as Carlisle looked at me. Then he nodded towards the painting, and I diverted my attention to it again.

"The Volturi have exceptional means to interrogate the violators of their laws. There's a member who can inflict an illusion of pain on her target, and another who can steal away all your senses - your sight, hearing, touch. As you can imagine, those can be very effective interrogation methods. Pain alone can make anyone submissive."

I nodded, trying to ignore the chills creeping up my skin. I hadn't known that vampires' supernatural abilities could have sadistic features. Suddenly I felt very young, very naive, like I'd been introduced to their world a minute ago. I'd thought I knew a lot about them, but it turned out I knew very little.

Carlisle's eyes were studying one of the vampires in the painting. The eyes of bright-red stared back at him. Long locks of black hair framed the vampire's face, landing on his shoulders like a cloak. Which one was he? I wondered. Marcus, Aro, Caius?

"Do you remember when I told you about Aro?" Carlisle asked, answering my soundless question.

I tried to recall our conversation from months back, returning to the night when Carlisle had told me about the Volturi. "A bit," I answered. "He's the one who can read minds, right?"

He nodded. "An illusion of pain, for instance, seems like nothing next to his gift. He doesn't need to torture the subject in order to extract information. His ability to read minds is more advanced than Edward's, but also more limited. Edward can read thoughts as they pass through someone's mind and he can do so from a certain distance. But Aro needs to touch the person to read their thoughts. But his skill is much more thorough; only by the touch of his hand, he learns every thought, every feeling, every memory the person possesses, and has possessed in their entire life."

I nodded. "I remember."

Carlisle looked my way, forgetting the painting. He drew in a deep breath as he turned to face me, brushing a hand through his hair. There was something nervous about the action, about the way he was standing. About the way he reached out with his hand to touch my shoulder. He did it as if to soothe me; as if to support me. And as I wondered why I would need soothing or supporting, I began to feel uneasy all over again. Because he obviously still knew something I didn't. Because my mind was obviously still one step behind.

That's why he wanted to offer me his comfort. Because I was about to catch up.

"Bella," he began, his voice measured and calm. "If Aro was present during the execution, it is more than likely that before destroying Victoria, he read her mind in order to discover the purpose behind the creation of her army. In that case, he obtained every thought, every feeling, every experience - ,"

"Every memory she possessed," I finished for him. My voice was oddly calm despite the sudden dismay I felt. If I hadn't been feeling so wrong-footed, so startled, I might have been annoyed with myself for not realizing the situation on my own. Victoria had raised the army for one purpose only - to kill me. And now the Volturi knew about it. About me.

They had known all along.

_"The situation hasn't gotten any worse." _Alice's words were now louder, clearer, than before. _"In fact, it's been this bad all along."_

I tried to tear my eyes from the wall panels where they had wandered, pretending that I was waiting for the news to sink in. In truth, they already had sunk in, but I found it difficult to meet Carlisle's eyes. The touch of his hand on my shoulder felt light, the coolness of his fingers seeping through my shirt.

"They know about me. The Volturi." The voice was mine, the words were mine, but I felt oddly disconnected from myself as I spoke. Finally, I lifted my eyes to meet his. My voice still didn't match my feelings; it was too calm. Too detached. "It explains the vision Alice keeps having of me. It's them - they've known about me all these years."

Carlisle's face portrayed every feeling that was simmering within me. Every feeling I couldn't give a voice to. "It is a possibility we have to be prepared to face."

I gave a hoarse, incredulous laugh. "_How_? If they know that I'm aware of you and the nature of your existence... You once told me that according to your laws, if a human becomes aware of you, that human has to be killed."

"That is obviously not an option," Carlisle said calmly, drawing his hand away from my shoulder. "To set your mind at ease, I must tell you that if the Volturi haven't felt the need to take action by now, it is very possible it takes years before they decide to do anything. They don't see time as you do. For someone who's been alive for thousands of years, a couple of decades means nothing. For a human, it's seems like a very long time, but it's only a blink from a vampire's perspective."

I sighed and lifted my hands to rub my eyes. "But Alice said that Victoria and her army was destroyed years ago, probably soon after you had left Forks. It means the Volturi already have had several years to mull over things. What if they suddenly decide to set a date? As long as I'm alive and aware of the existence of vampires, I'm a threat. They won't forget. And you once said yourself that they aren't exactly forgiving."

"Alice is monitoring the situation even as we speak," he assured softly. "If and when they decide to take action, we will be aware of it in an instant."

"And then what?" I asked, beginning to feel chagrined. "You'll protect me at the expense of your own lives? _Again_?"

Carlisle held my gaze for a long while. "You know we would do it gladly." The tone of his voice was the exact opposite of mine. Soft, assuring. Everything and nothing I needed to hear.

"And I should just stand by and let you do that for me?" I asked acidly. "Knowing how it ends? It would be all for nothing! If even half of what you've told me about the Volturi is true, you won't stand a chance against them. You'd only be delaying the inevitable. You'd die for nothing." I paused to take a shaky breath, trying to calm down. "It's not right that you should sacrifice yourselves that way. My life is not worth all of that. All of you."

The look in his eyes darkened, as if I'd said something insulting. "Your life is worth as much as anyone's," he said. There was no softness in his voice; only urgent intensity.

"But it's not right that you should throw away yours to preserve mine!" I vaguely realized I was on the brink of shouting, but I didn't care. "It's unreasonable. And if you think I'll let you do it, you're a lot dumber than you look." Holding his gaze, I searched for a calm tone. It took a huge amount of focus. "Even with the risk of sounding melodramatic... I'd rather die myself than watch you sacrifice yourselves for me."

Carlisle stood perfectly still for a while. Then dropped his eyes to the floor, crossing his arms and turning away from me. He took a few measured steps toward the middle of the room before stopping again. It looked like he was debating with himself about something, his posture tense and guarded.

Uncrossing his arms, he turned to face me again. His eyes were determined, and they were apologetic, and regretful and millions of other things I couldn't even begin to enumerate.

"It doesn't have to be that way," he said quietly. His speech was slow and calm, as though he wanted to make sure I would catch all the words. "You know it, and I know it. There is an option. You are free to consider it if you wish."

My anger boiled away. I suddenly couldn't hear anything over the pulse in my ears as the blood rushed around my body. It seemed to be in a hurry. To where? I couldn't tell.

It took another split second for me to fully comprehend what he was trying to say. And then I felt like my heart dropped from my chest to the bottom of my stomach. My pulse kept fluttering in my ears, but I couldn't tell if it was slow or fast, calm or turbulent. Images were rushing through my head; memories, moments, quick flashes of my life. _Charlie, Renée, Phil, Adrian_. I thought about all those things that had molded me into the person I was. All those moments that had come and gone a long time ago. And then I thought about the things that were yet to come; things I hadn't gotten to experience yet. Everyone had dreams, hopes and goals, and I was no different. Just like anyone else, I craved those things. I craved those possibilities, wanted to claim them as mine.

And just like anyone else, like millions before me and millions after, I realized I had made the most foolish mistake of all. I hadn't appreciated those things until I was a hair's breadth away from losing them all. The dreams, the hopes, the goals. Everything.

Another image formed in my mind; an image of myself surrounded by constant darkness. Bloodless veins, crimson eyes, skin cold as snow. Lifeless heart, forever frozen and heedless of the time passing by. The seconds, the minutes, the hours, the centuries ticking away, moving like they are supposed to. All the while I stood still, eternally captured in my own little bubble of endlessness.

There were no dreams in that place; no hopes or goals. No Charlie, no Renée, no Phil. Just my most ardent wish coming true eight years too late.

I tore my gaze away from the floor; I didn't even realize I'd begun to stare at it with unseeing eyes. I looked more through him than at him as I turned to Carlisle, drawing enough air into my lungs to get out a few simple words.

"I want to go home." I couldn't say anything else; I had no words. Even that short sentence made feel spent.

Carlisle stayed silent. From my peripheral vision I saw him nodding, and somewhere deep within me I was able to feel grateful because he didn't make me say anything else. Because he gave me space and the chance to breath and just be. I was reminded of his presence only when the soft sound of his footsteps echoed from the walls as he accompanied me downstairs. And when I was about to step into the cold January evening without my coat, he wordlessly retrieved it from the foyer where I'd left it earlier and lowered it on my shoulders.

It was the longest hour of my life. I tried to savor it, tried to appreciate every minute that ticked by and turned into the past. And I fretted because I felt like I was wasting those precious minutes, throwing them away like yesterday's trash. Because as much as I tried, I couldn't appreciate the time that flowed by me.

It was limitless. Time, that is. It couldn't be measured, and it couldn't be regulated or put aside to be taken out again whenever you felt like it. It couldn't be given a physical form or a definition, but still I felt like my share of that immeasurable time, that particular portion given to me, was running out way too soon. Like someone out there had set a timer, saying that this is all you get and that's it. See you on the other side. Or not. It's your decision. Choose between an undending life and death.

Some choices.

I stole a glance at the man beside me. Carlisle's eyes were focused on the road ahead, but I knew he was aware of my gaze. He didn't turn his head to meet my eyes, though. Maybe he thought I'd interpret it as a question; have you decided or not? Do you yet know if you want to die or not?

I shook my head at myself, knowing it was my inner turmoil talking. I tried to probe my feelings, telling myself that I had this coming all along. That this subject would have come up sooner or later. From the moment Carlisle had appeared to my door on that October night months ago, deep down I had known that at some point I'd have to face this question again.

Why was I so upset, then?

_Because you believed the situation would be different. __Because you didn't expect to be sentenced to death so suddenly._

I looked at the familiar streets outside the car window, watching the flow of people passing by. Very few of them were smiling; maybe they had problems of their own. Maybe some of them had to make a difficult decision, too.

Die or live. The decision should have been easy, right?

But it wasn't.

Closing my eyes, I took deep breath, fighting to calm the turmoil inside. But it was impossible. Faces were filling my mind, faces of those who I'd lose no matter what I decided. And it wouldn't be just me losing; I'd be lost to them as well.

The masochist in me began to picture it; Renée standing next to Phil, holding the phone to her ear as she received the news of the strange disappearance of her only daughter; Charlie working through the nights, trying to find out what had happened to me and driving himself crazy by fearing that I had been violently murdered by some lunatic; Adrian stopping by at my empty, abandoned bookstore in a couple of years, passing through Buffalo on his way to India or something.

Would they spend the rest of their lives living in grief and uncertainty? Never finding out what had happened to me?

I didn't know if I could do that to them. I couldn't imagine knowingly causing them all that pain.

But I had to. In one way or another.

I idly thought that if the Volturi happened to get me sooner than expected, maybe there'd be a body to be left behind. Something to give them closure.

Tears were burning against my closed eyelids. I kept my eyes tightly shut, refusing to let them fall. Because those tears felt selfish; they weren't for them. They weren't for Charlie, or for Renée, or Sue or Phil or Adrian or the agony they'd have to go through. Those tears were for me, for my misery. For my fragile mortality. For every year I'd wanted to live, and for every year I was now going to lose. For every moment I couldn't share with my parents, for every new memory I could no longer create with them. I suddenly regretted for not visiting them more often. For not spending time with them when I'd had the chance.

In that moment, I missed them more than ever before.

As I felt the motions of the car becoming slower and then stopping altogether, the churning chaos within me grew. The engine was cut, and then it was very quiet. I was vaguely aware that I should say something; the silence seemed to demand it. But my fingers were already fumbling for the door handle, and I was out before I even had the chance to comprehend it myself.

I walked across the white yard to the front door, remembering how untroubled I'd been just a couple of hours ago when I'd stepped outside and walked to the car where Alice had waited. It had snowed since then; a fresh layer of white had covered the ground, hiding my earlier footprints. It was almost like I'd never been here. It somehow seemed very fitting. One person had left, and a few hours later, a very different one returned.

That's how I felt; different. Off balance. Off course.

The cold air made the tears feel hotter. I payed no attention to them, just like I ignored the heavy, sorrowful gaze at my back.

To be honest, disregarding the tears was easier.

My night was sleepless. The hours dragged by as the storm within me kept raging, eventually tiring itself out. Drowning in its own waves.

Hours later, when the moon had circled the sky and was peeking through the window of my bedroom, I got up. With aching eyes, I navigated my way through the dark, sleeping house, stopping at the window of the living room.

The front yard bathed in the silver light of the moon. My eyes swept the white scenery, eventually landing on the line of my own footprints leading across the yard. Beside them, there was another set of footprints pursuing mine. They ended in the middle of the yard, turned back and returned to the spot where a certain car had been standing just a few hours ago.

Now it was gone. The black, sleek car had disappeared, just like the owner of those footprints.

* * *

**AN: **Uh-oh. Drama in the offing.

The following sentences are quotes from Stephenie Meyer's book _Twilight_:

_"You can laugh."_

_"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods. __Aro. Marcus. Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts."_

The conversation between Bella and Carlisle about Bella's mother and her tendency to lose her cell phone is a reference to the movie _Twilight_. In one scene, Renée is calling Bella from a payphone after losing the power cord of her cell. It's a nice moment between them, and also describes how scatterbrained Renée sometimes is :)

For some reason, this chapter was very enjoyable to write. The passage of the story has been very smooth so far, so it's nice to see something dramatic happening for a change. I'm sure many of you agree. This is obviously a very important turning point for Bella. I wonder what's going through her head after this?

Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!


	14. Reeds In The Wind

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)  
**

* * *

**_Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, _**

**_and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. _**

**_Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. _**

**_And the point is to live everything. _**

**_Live the questions now. _**

**_Perhaps then, someday far in the future, _**

**_you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer._**

\- Rainer Maria Rilke, _Letters to a Young Poet_ -

* * *

**Reeds In The Wind**

I didn't see any of the Cullens for days.

It felt strange. Unreal. In the evenings when I got home from work, Alice wasn't waiting for me at my apartment with a cup of freshly brewed tea. The rooms felt empty without her; I didn't even realize how accustomed I had become to her presence.

Jasper no longer walked by the bookstore's display window to give me a wink like he sometimes did. Many times I caught myself looking outside and almost expected to see him across the street, sitting in front of the cafe he'd seemed to grow a liking to. "It's never too crowded," he'd once said. "And the waitress never asks if there's something wrong with the coffee even though I always leave it untouched."

Now the tables outside the cafe were unoccupied. It was no wonder since it was winter, but for some reason the place looked almost deserted. Abandoned.

It almost described how I felt every night when the last customers left; when I realized that Carlisle wouldn't arrive after the closing time and offer to accompany me home. Almost, but not quite. The feeling was something between loneliness and misery, a strange yearning that awoke within me everytime the door slipped closed, shutting everyone else outside and trapping me in like a prisoner. Caging me up like a bird.

I later realized that I wasn't feeling like someone who had been abadoned. I felt like it was _me_ who had done the abandoning. And I hadn't been imprisoned by someone else – on the opposite. I had flown into the cage myself, securely locking myself in. I had made my prison, built up the walls myself.

The feeling made their absence seem even more apparent. More real. More painful.

Sometimes if I focused hard enough, concentrated on the present moment, I could almost imagine they had never even been there.

Almost.

But of course they were there, somewhere. Watching me from the shadows, making sure I was safe. I just couldn't see them. But I could sense their presence. Sometimes I found myself stopping what I was doing without any sound reason and walking to the window. And for an indefinable amount of time, my thoughts were on something else besides work and customers and books. My attention was diverted by something I could not explain. It was almost as if I heard someone calling my name without a sound. I didn't know if it was my imagination or not, but there was almost something soothing about the feeling.

I never wondered about their absence. I couldn't blame them for it, either. It had probably been Carlisle's idea to leave me alone for a while so I could gather my thoughts. It was no wonder after the way I'd behaved at their house and later on the way home.

I wasn't ashamed of the quiet breakdown I'd had in the car, or tears he'd probably seen. But I did regret my lack of words. That I hadn't said anything to him. That I'd just gotten out of the car and walked away from him the way I had. Leaving him in the hopeless silence I had created.

It was a rude thing to do to someone who had just offered to save your life. And it wasn't just rude. It was cowardly.

That's exactly what I was – a coward. A fearful child hiding away from the world. Still not knowing what to think, what to say. What to feel. Which path to choose. How to recover from something so sudden, something so unexpected. Something like this.

Or was the situation unexpected after all? Should I have seen this coming? Had my reaction to Carlisle's proposition been unreasonably strong?

But I was allowed feel a little unsettled by the situation, was I? How could I not?

_"Your life is worth as much as anyone's." _

The voice echoing in my mind was firm but soft. Decisive but compassionate. I drew in a loud breath. Maybe to drown the voice, to push the memory away to take it out once I was ready to deal with it.

But the voice was strong, even as a whisper. It refused to leave me be.

_"It doesn't have to be that way. There is an option. You are free to consider it if you wish." _

Maybe it was a good thing that I hadn't seen any of them yet – that hadn't seen _him_. I didn't want them to know how insecure I still was – how hesitant. Me, who was always all about living in the moment and accepting everything life threw at my way. I felt like all those opinions, all those views and principles I usually embraced had been turned upside down within seconds.

Or then it was me who had turned upside down, unable to keep my balance after the world had taken a sudden lurch.

For days, I buried myself in work, leaving home early and coming back as late as I could. There was some part of me that childishly wished that when enough time passed, the situation would get settled on its own. That my tangled emotions would solve themselves without me having to deal with them. That one morning when I opened my eyes, all the answers I needed would be there. Just like that.

So I kept myself busy, making sure I always had something to do to prevent my mind from wandering. I spent three days spring cleaning the bookstore's stockroom from the ceiling to the floor, getting rid of all the piled up dust. When I was finished, I spent another three days suffering from a stuffy nose and a terrible headache.

Since it was January, I knew it was a little early for a spring clean, but it helped me take my mind off everything. And organizing things, finding items I'd lost years ago made me feel like I was organizing my mind, getting rid of all the clutter and mess.

It didn't work for very long, though. During the quiet moments when nothing was enough to keep me busy, my eyes wandered to the window, searching the streets outside. And I couldn't help but silently wonder whether or not I'd be here one year from now. Whether or not I'd be alive; whether or not I'd be human.

Maybe there would be someone else to do the spring cleaning.

I shoved the cash register closed a little too roughly. The customer on the other side of the counter gave me glance, sliding the book she'd just bought into her bag.

"Sorry," I smiled and tapped the side of the cash register. "The drawer gets stuck sometimes."

I managed to keep the smile on my face until she left. When the door clacked shut behind her, the corners of my lips fell like a switch had been flicked somewhere. Sinking on my chair, I touched the cash register again as if to apologize my earlier rough handling. Brutalizing it wouldn't help me.

When it got late enough, I locked the door and turned the sign from 'Open' to 'Closed'. After turning off some of the lights, I sat down behind the counter again and picked up the phone. I dialed the number without thinking. Without knowing what to say. Without knowing why I was calling.

All I knew was that I needed to hear a friendly voice.

It took only one ring before the phone was picked up, catching me off guard and giving me no time to think of something to say.

"_Hello?"_

I cleared my throat. "Hi, Charlie."

There was a surprised silence. _"Bella?" _

I gave a small laugh; it sounded weird in my ears. It seemed like forever since I'd last felt like laughing. "Yeah, it's me. You don't have to sound so startled."

Charlie chuckled. _"No, it's just that... Well, it's been so long since I've heard from you."_

"I know. I'm sorry I haven't called – I've just been so -,"

"_Busy," _he finished for me. "_I know. Don't worry about it. It's funny, actually – I just got off the phone with your mother and I was going to call you next, but you were faster. I have... news. Or _we _have. Sue and I, that is._" He cleared his throat, sounding nervous.

"Really?" I held back a smile, amused by his fluster. "What's up?"

I heard him clearing his throat again and drawing in a deep breath. It was a definite sign that something was making him feel uncomfortable. I could easily imagine him glancing up at the roof, trying to figure out how to get the words out of his mouth fast enough. And then he'd hope that he wouldn't have to repeat himself.

When he finally began to speak, I had trouble believing my ears.

"Wow," I managed to say when he had finished. My cheeks were feeling weird, and it took a while to realize that it was because I was smiling so widely. "Well, congratulations. I wish you two the best of happiness."

Charlie mumbled something that sounded like 'thanks', his voice gruff. _"Now, are you sure you don't mind?"_

I tried to stifle another smile, unsuccessfully. "Why would I mind? This is the best thing that could ever happen. Please congratulate Sue for me. I've been waiting for these kind of news for a while now."

"_You have?" _he asked. _"And you're not upset because we got married in secret?"_

"Of course not," I said, rolling my eyes. "I know the last thing you'd want is a big wedding. Getting married in the courthouse is much more to your style. And besides, I'm sure Sue had to make an effort to get you in a suit. I don't know if she had been able to make you walk down the aisle with dozens of people watching," I said, tongue in cheek.

There was a short silence. "_Well, actually... I didn't even wear a suit._"

I could only shake my head. "Of course not. What was I thinking? You got married in your police uniform, didn't you?"

Another silence. "_Well... sort of... yes._"

I nodded to myself, smiling smugly. The heavy weight that had seemed to be pressing me down for days lightened up a bit. For the shortest of moments, I was able to forget everything that shadowed my mind and be simply happy for Charlie and Sue. They deserved all the happiness there was after all their hardships. And I somehow just knew that what they had between them would last forever.

Forever.

I sucked in a breath at the word, trying to shake away the feelings it caused. Luckily Charlie was talking again, drawing my attention back to him. He told me about their plans to spend their honeymoon on Hawaii. I could only wonder how Sue had been able to persuade him to leave – Charlie was a stay-at-home person, and that was mildly put.

I suppose love could change even the smallest of things in a person.

Our conversation ended soon after I had congratulated Charlie once more and wished them a happy honeymoon. As I lowered the phone on the counter, I tried to hold onto the delight I felt for them. At first it was easy, but soon the silence of the store began to feel oppressive. I considered calling Renée, just to get an excuse to postpone going home.

Eventually I decided against it. My mom knew me too well, and she'd doubtlessly sense that something was troubling me. Instead I texted her, rejoicing about Charlie's and Sue's news. I didn't expect to get an answer – she still didn't know how to use her new cell phone properly. If Phil didn't happen to be home, even opening my message was probably challenging enough for her.

I smiled at the thought of my silly mother as I locked up and began to head home. The smile began as a fond one, but soon turned melancholy. But it was still a smile, sad or not.

My apartment looked dark and empty as I unlocked the door. For a moment I just stood there on the threshold, feeling reluctant to go in. Faint streaks of light were leaking inside, painting the floor of the small foyer with golden glow. I glanced at the yard lights behind my back, not remembering leaving them on this morning.

As I was about to step inside, something caught my eye. Frowning, I pulled the door closed behind me, and knelt beside the coat rack.

A single, yellow petal was resting on the floor, looking forgotten and lost. My fingers reached out to pick it up. It looked fresh and intact, not at all withered, even though it had been weeks since Alice had filled my apartment with those bright yellow flowers.

I brought the daffodil petal under my nose, drawing in a slow breath. The scent was delicate, just barely there. A little like spring – you knew it was somewhere there, on the verge of arriving, but still so very far away. Out of your reach.

I left the petal on the kitchen counter. The bright color of it stood out in my otherwise plain home. The stark, pale color of the walls was almost irritating; I'd never noticed it before.

The next day on my way home from the bookstore, I bought a huge bundle of daffodils. When I got home, I put the flowers in a vase and after a while of thought placed them in my bedroom. Their yellow blooms bowed to me as if in approval.

The next morning, I bought three gallons of paint. When I got home, I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed a paint roller.

By dusk, my kitchen-slash-living room was yellow. Yellow like the daffodils in my bedroom. Yellow like the sun at its rising. Yellow like the kitchen cupboards in Charlie's house in Forks.

In the twilight, as the last remnants of the light ebbed away, the color of the walls changed. It gained a darker, deeper hue, the luminous yellow fading slowly, almost stealthily, until resembling a rich shade of honey. For one endless moment, I stared at it, feeling like I was looking at something familiar, something safe. Something that was now missing. Something that wanted to be remembered by me.

And when I closed my eyes at night, I did.

I saw it, the intense stare of golden eyes. It didn't leave me be. Not even when the darkness set in, consuming the colors, and the light, and the day gone by. It kept following me, coaxing me gently into sleep to pull me into wakefulness again.

When the dreams finally took me, the memory of golden eyes was the last thing I saw.

* * *

_The sand is warm under my bare feet. The breeze, gentle and quiet, brushes against my skin, sending a shiver along my spine. _

_I'm walking, I realize, but my eyes are on the ground ahead of me. I'm not looking where I should be looking. "Watch your step," my mother had always told me. "But don't forget to look where you're going."_

_I follow her old advice, wondering when I'd stopped listening to her warnings - wondering why I remember one now. Wondering when I'd stopped being that incautious child, the one paying no mind to the water puddles on the street or the slippery surface of the pier. The one who hadn't minded stumbling down and getting her knees scratched and bruised. Just as long as there had been someone to help her up, that girl hadn't minded a cut or two. _

_I wonder where that girl went. And I wonder how to get her back._

_I look up from the sand, watching as the waves of the ocean crash on the shore, collapsing and colliding in each other. The moonlight plays upon the water, chasing the surges as if trying to keep up with them. _

_The waves calm down all of a sudden. Slightly changing direction, they move steadily onward, almost like being drawn by some invisible force. My eyes follow their movements, curious about the place where the water suddenly wants to flow. Then I see the figure standing in the waterline; the waves are going there. They are drawn to the figure, almost as if something is pulling them towards it. Towards her._

_I move with the waves. Like gravity, the figure draws me in, summons me closer. Just like the flowing water at my feet, I'm choiceless._

_In the blue moonlight, my mother looks like a magical being as she stands in the ankle-deep water. Her hands are grasping the hem of her summer dress, holding it away from the water. She smiles at me as I near. Her face is lined with wrinkles; they are born of smiles and laughter. Because a hundred smiles is worth a million wrinkles._

_I reach out as if to touch her, to becon her to come to me. But she stands still. The smile on her lips changes; the lively spark in her eyes disappears. The expression on her face becomes serene. Calm._

_I'm confused; I want to tell her that._

_She holds my gaze, almost as if to make sure she has my full attention. Then she speaks. The words don't take my confusion away. They only add it._

"_You must choose," she says. Her voice is comforting, guiding. "But before you choose, you have to know what is right for you."_

_A response already on my lips, I take another step closer. "I don't what is right," I say. My voice is small, timid. Fearful like a child's."I don't want to choose."_

_She smiles. It's a comforting smile, but also apologetic. A wave comes from the ocean, and she turns to look at it. Her eyes, blue like the ocean behind her, take a sadder note as she gazes at me one more time._

"_Don't go," I whisper._

_But she does. I blink once, and she's gone. _

_I brush a hand across my face. Tears mingle with seawater. I feel them trickling down my cheeks, slipping down my neck. Hot tears of loss and love. As they drop into the ocean one by one, I envy them because they seem to accept something I cannot. They are tears, and water is water, but yet they mix and mingle with each other, fearlessly and without hesitation, not minding the change. Not minding that once they have changed and become something else, there's no going back. But I am not like them and it saddens me. _

_My hair moves with the breeze. Then I feel it, the quiet presence behind my back. I don't turn around to see who it is. I already know._

"_The more you fear the change, the more it's going to affect you."_

_Closing my eyes, I consider the words. My own words, spoken weeks ago. I realize that back then, I hadn't really known what I was talking about. _

_Do I know now? Am I any wiser?_

"_Changes always affect you," I answer. They are his words, but it's my mouth shaping them. "Whether you fear them or not."_

"_Bella." My name leaves his lips as a whisper. As an invitation. Arms wrap around me from behind. I lean into his strong frame, feeling searing pain and some strange, restful fulfillment at the same time. "You're not like most people."_

_His soft voice, now somewhere close to my left ear, makes me shiver. My skin prickles, catches on flames. Like wildfire, the burning spreads, starting somewhere near my heart, pulsing and pounding and throbbing until reaching all the way to my fingertips. _

_His cool fingers brush against my burning cheeks. The touch is soft, just barely there. Like the breeze against my skin – one moment it's there and the next it's gone._

"_It is relieving to learn that certain things won't change," I hear him murmuring. His skin is cool against my warm one._

_I turn around in his arms. My hands lying flat on his chest, I rise to my tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "Nothing really stays the same when you think about it."_

_I feel his smile as I begin to pull back. But he holds me still. The flames are raging again, licking my skin and leaving behind a familiar burn. My skin tingles, the blood coursing through my veins rippling and rushing forward like a tide. And then his skin, usually hard as granite and cold as ice, turns warm. It confuses me and awes me, and I gaze at him in wonder as I brush my fingers along the length of his arm._

_And it is then when I notice it – the blue moonlight that reflects on the surface of my skin. _

_A frown furrows my brow. I give Carlisle a confused glance. He watches me closely as my fingers cease their gentle dance on his skin. His skin that is as pale as mine. As warm as mine._

_Or as cold as mine._

_We're the same temperature._

"_But..." I frown again, gazing at his face as if I'm hoping to find all the answers there. I want to know when this has happened – and why I wasn't aware of it before now._

"_Is something wrong?" The look in Carlisle's eyes is patient as he meets my gaze._

"_I don't..." I search for words to answer him. To ask him all the questions teeming in my mind._

"_It can be quite confusing," he says soothingly, sensing my distress. I want to tell him that he doesn't understand. That I don't understand. That none of this makes sense to me._

_He's watching me closely again, his hand drawing soothing patterns on my back. His warm hand. _

_I tear my eyes away from his beautiful face to look around me. Everything is so sharp and defined – the waves that play about the shore, caressing our feet; the soft moonlight that ripples on the water, making the ocean look like an explosion of shimmer and sparkle. But then, everything changes. Something shrouds the moon – a cloud, I assume. But I have no time or will to focus on that, because something else demands my attention. _

_The skin against mine is turning colder. _

_I turn to Carlisle, but I've looked away from him too long. Because when my eyes search his face, he's no longer there. I see him standing a few steps away, his back to me._

_My heartbeat thunders in my ears as he turns around slowly. The look in his eyes is questioning, almost like he expects me to do or say something. To give him an answer to a question I haven't heard._

_I open my mouth to speak, but the words refuse to come._

_There is disappointment in Carlisle's eyes, but also acceptance. He nods slowly, submissively, and slowly walks away._

_My mouth opens to a soundless cry as he disappears into the night._

* * *

I rubbed my eyes with my other hand as I studied the shipping list document laying on the counter, vaguely realizing that I had begun to read the same word for the fourth time. An involuntary yawn escaped my lips. The bell above the door gave a gentle ring, forcing me to form a normal expression on my face as a customer entered. I probably still looked like I'd been awake for a year. I sure felt like I had.

This was my new routine. I stayed up late, fell asleep only to have restless and endless seeming dreams, and then woke up during the small hours of the morning. Fatigue was slowly eating away at me, and I was beginning to feel mentally and physically drained, like a rag that had been wrung out too many times.

I was almost getting used to feeling so tired all the time. Maybe it was a human thing. I'd noticed that if needed, your body and mind could adjust and adapt to almost anything.

And just like with everything else, I did. I adjusted. I adapted. Bending like reeds in the wind, hoping that the next storm wouldn't brake me.

I somehow managed to crawl through the rest of the day. When I got home, I went through my mail and made myself a cup of tea. Then I took a quick shower and got changed. Glanced out of the window. Walked in circles around my apartment. Tidied up the kitchen. Glanced out of the window again.

In other words, repeated the same pattern I had fallen into days ago.

There was nothing wrong with routines _– _I actually liked those. But now I felt like I was simply functioning on autopilot, going about my days without thinking. Without moving. I was here, but I wasn't present. My mind, my thoughts, my heart... they were somewhere else. And what really bothered me was that I had left them behind. Stashed them away like embarrassing childhood pictures.

A sigh escaped my lips. The sound was sharp and loud in the quiet kitchen. I looked around me, my eyes studying the bright yellow walls. And that abrupt fit of spontaneity that had made me paint the room was suddenly something I missed dearly. I almost craved it, and I didn't know why.

I felt lost and adrift, even though a large part of me knew what I should do. What I should have done days ago. But running away from the problem, avoiding it the best I could, had somehow seemed easier.

I suppose that was a human thing, too. Taking the easy way out and ending up running in cirles.

My hand reached out, almost on its own accord, to take the keys from the table. After another sigh, I shrugged on my coat and tried to untangle my hair from the zipper. I suddenly realized I was feeling oddly wired, like an electric charge about to be set off. It took a while for me to recognize the feeling, but eventually I realized that I was awfully nervous.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I turned the knob of the front door and pushed it open before I had the chance to change my mind. Getting cold feet was not an option.

As I locked the door behind me and felt the cold air on my skin, my earlier fatigue was forgotten. It was minus four below, and the cold air tingled in my throat. I pushed the discomfort aside, beginning to make my way down the alley of trees.

Midway down the alley, I stopped. My eyes searched the trees covered with frost, my quiet breaths visible in the cold air. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, observing the shadows around me. A creepy thought came to me, one that made shivers run up my back. Anyone could be standing there, in the dark, and I'd have no clue.

I glanced toward the illuminated street a few dozen yards away. A few cars were passing by, the purr of their engines first nearing and then fading away. I considered walking up there and back to keep my muscles warm and the paranoid thoughts away. I pulled up the collars of my coat, looking away from the street into the trees again.

And what I saw made me nearly jump out of my skin. My mind was a second or two behind my body as I took an instinctive step back.

It took a moment for me to realize that there was no danger. Letting out a relieved breath, I tried to calm down my throbbing heart. It was thundering in my chest furiously, and I could actually feel it as it pounded against my ribcage.

Then I gave a glare at the person standing three steps away from me.

"Don't do that!" I reproached, trying to shake away the jitters.

"What?" Alice asked innocently. "Weren't you expecting someone? Why else would you be standing here in the cold if not waiting for me?" She quirked her brow. "Or did you expect someone else?"

I sighed, my irritation beginning to pass. A sharp feeling of disappointment threatened to conquer me, and I tried to ignore the feeling with little success.

Of course it was nice to see Alice after so many days. But truthfully, I _had _expected someone else to show up. Admitting that to myself was surprisingly hard.

Alice seemed to guess where my mind was, or then my feelings were visible on my face.

"Look," she said with a smile, her tone surprisingly gentle. "I know it's not me you looked forward to see. I just wanted to let you know that Carlisle's away at the moment."

"Oh." I bit my lip and nodded, trying to find my voice. "Where is he?"

"In Alaska," she answered. "He left three days ago. He went to see the Denalis, and Esme and Miguel as well. They wanted to talk about the situation face to face."

_The situation being the Volturi. _I held the words inside, suddenly feeling like saying them out loud would make the threat more real.

"Is there anything new?" I asked, involuntarily wrapping my arms around myself.

Alice shook her head. "I'm keeping an eye on them," she assured, for some reason avoiding speaking the Volturi's name as well. "If they make a decision that concerns us or you, I will see it."

I lowered my gaze to the ground. Her last sentence stirred something within me. It was guilt; regret. It was right then and there when the whole situation truly sunk in. This wasn't just about me, about my life and well-being. It was also about the Cullens. When the Volturi decided to act, it wouldn't just be my life on the line. The Cullens would be in danger as well. And possibly even the Denalis _– _after all, they knew about me, too. And that knowledge could cost them their life.

All these past days I'd despaired about my situation, mourned for my human life and the things, the people, the future I'd lose. I hadn't given a thought to anyone else. Suddenly I felt very young, very naive. Very self-centered. Giving the Cullens the silent treatment and secluding myself like a sulking child didn't help anyone.

I lifted my eyes from the ground. Alice met my gaze; she was studying me carefully.

I gave a nod toward my apartment. "Would you like to come in?"

Normally I wasn't so stiff and formal with her, but now I felt like I owed it. And I owed a lot more than a simple request to come inside. I owed an explanation and an apology.

Alice flashed me a smile. Then she took my hand and pulled me along with her, through the darkness and the cold air. The snow softened the sound of our feet as we made our way out of the alley. When I opened the door for her, she stepped inside like the past few days didn't exist at all. Like I hadn't built an invisible, impenetrable barrier between us, a barrier that had separated me and them.

That was a funny thing about Alice. At times, she could drive you crazy, but the very next moment, she could be the easiest person to be with. She was as uncomplicated as she was complex.

Once inside, her gaze began to wander around the yellow walls.

"You've painted," she stated the obvious, settling on the couch. "I like it. It's like a room full of sunshine."

"You're not the only one who has a knack for fixing up houses," I said, tongue in cheek. "And you don't have to pretend surprise. I'm sure you saw the outcome hours before me."

She flashed me a smile. "I _was _a little taken aback when you decided to paint the most prominent room in your apartment screaming yellow. You and your whims."

I sat down next to her. "I'm sure that if you had foreseen that the result is bad, you'd have interfered in time," I pointed out, half serious and half joking.

Alice was still smiling, but the playfulness was gone from her eyes. "No," she denied gently. "I wouldn't have. You have the right to make your own decisions. I have no say in that. None of us do."

Looking at the hands in my lap, I nodded mutely, knowing that we weren't talking about paint colors anymore.

"Look," I began quietly, lifting my gaze again. "Back at your house, I know that my reaction to Carlisle's news wasn't very... I don't know. Appropriate."

"I think it was," she disagreed. "You had every right to react like you did."

"Well, maybe." I took a better position, lifting my feet on the couch. "But I guess what I'm trying to say is that... I know I've been very withdrawn for these past few days, and I'm sorry. It wasn't really my intention to act that way. I just didn't know how to deal with all this. I still don't."

"We understand that, Bella," Alice assured. "And the reason why we didn't come to knock on your door the next morning was that we wanted to give you space. We knew you needed it."

"I appreciate it," I murmured. A memory came to me, washing over me like a tidal wave. I remembered looking outside the window the night when Carlisle had brought me home. I remembered the moonlight. I remembered the footsteps in the snow. I remembered how they had chased mine, but turned back.

"I shouldn't have treated Carlisle the way I did." The words tumbled from my lips in a hurry, flowing into the air like poison. Suddenly I thought about how I'd felt just a few minutes ago when Alice had appeared from the darkness of the alley; when I'd realized that against my expectations, I wouldn't see Carlisle. It hadn't been a guilty feeling – it had been something deeper.

Now I recognized that feeling. I realized that I'd taken his presence for granted. First, I'd walked away from him without saying a word, and then I'd secluded myself for days on end. And when I'd finally come to conclusion that I was ready to talk, I'd expected him to be there in an instant. Just like that.

I really couldn't blame him for going to Alaska. Even polar bears would probably make better company than I did.

Frustration washed over me. I lifted my legs up and leaned my forehead against my knees, wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Carlisle's not upset with you," I heard Alice reassuring. "He completely understands why you've been so remote."

"I know he does." My voice came out muffled. "That's what makes him so perfect."

Her silence compelled me to look up.

"Perfect, you say?" she asked, arching her brow playfully. "That's interesting."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Don't start."

"Why not?"

"Because," I answered, dropping my feet to the floor again and avoiding her eyes. I decided to change the subject before she decided say something else.

Clearing my throat, I got up and walked to the kitchen sink to get myself a glass of water. "How is Edward taking this situation?" I asked, realizing that this was the first time I even bothered to think about Edward. If I knew him at all, his head had probably exploded when he had found out that the Volturi possibly knew about me. He had always been overprotective. I was pretty sure that he still possessed that particular trait.

Alice shrugged. "You know Edward," she stated, confirming my suspicions. "He had his worst fears realized when he read that nomad's mind and found out about the Volturi. This is the kind of thing he always tried to protect you from." She fell silent, hesitating before speaking again. "And he's not exactly thrilled about the offer Carlisle made to you. They had an argument about it when Carlisle arrived to Alaska."

My head whipped around. "_What_? Is he still _– ,_ " I searched for words, setting down my glass so hard it was a wonder it didn't shatter. I let out a breath in a huff. "It's not his place to criticize Carlisle about offering to change me. I can't believe he's _still_ obsessing about that!"

"You can't?" Alice raised one eye brow and smiled wryly.

I let out a sigh, trying to release my irritation. It was difficult. "I know Edward means well," I said slowly. It took a huge amount of patience to say the words. "And he's allowed to have an opinion. But he doesn't have the right to make decisions for me. He's done that once before." I raked my fingers through my hair, sauntering back to the couch. "How is he expecting the situation to unfold, then?" I wondered. "So what if Carlisle offered to change me? Would Edward rather see me being slaughtered by the Volturi? Is becoming a vampire really so much worse an alternative?"

"I don't know. Is it?" Alice asked pointedly.

I glanced at her. For once, her subtle innuendos didn't irritate me. But surely she already knew, maybe even better than I did, that I wasn't exactly making progress when it came to making up my mind. Even after all these days, after all this time that I've had to mull things over and let my thoughts brew... I still wasn't getting anywhere. I felt like I was halfway to somewhere, but I didn't know where. And everytime I tried to take a step forward to keep going, I found myself standing still. The path I was on was shrouded in uncertainty, and walking it blind was a task that seemed impossible to accomplish.

It was because I didn't know what lied at the end of that path. A quiet voice somewhere within me said that I didn't have to know – that I just had to keep going. The rest would come along on its own.

It was difficult to listen to that voice; it was smothered by doubt and mistrust.

Alice met my gaze as I looked at her, my eyes devoid of answers.

"Remember what I said earlier," she said quietly, sensing my inner confusion. "This is your decision, and yours only. You're in no hurry to make it. There's not an immediate danger. It may take years before the Volturi bother to think about you and take action."

I nodded, grateful of her support. But her reassurances didn't take my fears and worries away. I acknowledged what she said and understood that she meant well. This was my choice to make, yes – but what really unsettled me was that I knew it wouldn't affect just me. Whatever I decided, it would also involve someone I held dear.

One question remained – a question that was unbearable. But I had to ask it from myself. Who would end up suffering because of my decision? My parents or the Cullens? Who was I willing to hurt?

Without realizing, I'd risen up from the couch and walked to the window. The small table under it was littered with framed photographs. Faces stared up at me, pairs of blue and brown eyes studying me curiosuly, almost expectantly. I looked more through them than at them as I slowly drowned in my lack of hope. Lack of purpose.

The darkness outside the window was endless, but it gave me some strange solace. Darkness was just darkness, nothing more and nothing less, but it was here to stay. One half of the world was always consumed by it. It was a constant that didn't change no matter where you were, something that was permanent and everlasting. And if you wanted to live, you had to come to terms with it.

Maybe it was supposed to be that way. Maybe I had to come to terms with the darkness, with not being able to see where to go. Maybe I wasn't supposed to know where my next step would land. Maybe I was supposed to stumble and take missteps.

Maybe some paths had to be walked blind.

* * *

**AN: **Tadaa! Don't worry, I'm still here. The reason for my delayed update is - surprise surprise - technology and its unpredictable instability. Last month my old laptop decided that now its a good time to say beep-beep and good night. It took a while until I got a new one, and even longer until I got the internet working in it (Windows 8, I know we haven't known for very long, but I already hate you.)

Originally, there was supposed to be some Carlisle/Bella interaction in this chapter, but I had a nagging feeling that Bella should have a chance to think about things on her own at first. Sometimes you need distance to get perspective.

In the dream sequence, Carlisle's line _"It can be quite confusing." _is a direct quote from Stephenie Meyer's _Breaking Dawn. _Carlisle says this to Bella after her transformation.

The next chapter is underway, and I'll post it as soon as I get it done. I hope you enjoy so far! :)

**AN/12.7.2015: **Hang in there, the next chapter is taking longer than I planned. The story is not adandoned! :)


	15. The Border of Light and Shadows

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

**_"If she loved him the way she said she did, she wanted him whole. _**

**_Maybe this was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. _**

**_It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, _**

**_but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own." _ **

\- Melissa De la Cruz, _Lost In Time _-

* * *

**The Border of Light and Shadows**

Another Saturday arrived faster than I would have liked it to. I had become to detest that day because I usually closed the store earlier on Saturdays. With a whole afternoon of nothing to do, my thoughts began to race, making me feel like I was running in circles with myself. I gave in to my temptation to stay at the store instead of going home, and finishing up cleaning the stockroom seemed like a great excuse to postpone heading to my empty apartment.

It was kind of funny when I really thought about it. Because why did it even matter where I was? It was equally lonely here than it was at my apartment. I knew that Alice would drop by during the evening and therefore I wouldn't be entirely alone. But even so, I'd noticed that recently my home had begun to feel vacant and empty. And as much as I welcomed Alice's company, even her presence couldn't erase the feeling of something being different.

Eventually I had to give in and accept the inevitable, deciding to call it quits for the day. As I was locking the door of the bookstore behind me, I suddenly remembered once telling Carlisle that loneliness wasn't a physical state. That it wasn't defined by the amount of people around you. Like a phantom out of the past, the conversation that had taken place weeks ago in the blue light of the moon came back to me as I began to weave my way through the stream of people milling about the streets.

_"Are you ever lonely, Bella?" _

I dropped my gaze to the sidewalk. The voice was just a memory, an echo of something that had used to be. But still, regardless of the fact that no one could hear me, I wanted to answer. To say yes. And it was odd because I'd rarely felt like this. Like I was alone. I mean, _alone _alone. It made me wonder what it was that had changed about me; what made me now feel the way I did.

The park was dark and deserted as I made my way towards home. There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground, and the cold air prickled my skin into goose bumps. I sped up my steps, not slowing down until I turned to the alley leading to my apartment. The brisk walk had warmed me up, but still, my skin tingled as if my limbs had fallen asleep. I tried to shake the feeling away as I continued down the alley, and I let out a breath as I reached the door of my apartment.

For the whole evening, I was feeling oddly tense, like an overstrung violing string about to snap in two. Even tea didn't help me calm down, even though it usually made me sleepy. After gulpung down three full cups, I was still feeling uncommonly wired.

Nervously drumming my fingers against the table, I began to consider taking a long walk, regardless of the fact that I'd walked home from the store a while ago. I just felt like needed to focus my extra energy on something. My skin was tingling again, as if there was an invisible army of ants crawling all over me.

But in the end, I knew it wasn't the invisible ants that trobled me and made my nerves tingle with unease; it was the proverbial elephant in the room. The one I'd kept on ignoring for days.

Giving a deep sigh, I rose from the couch and grabbed my coat. Not to take a walk like I had considered a moment ago, but to do something I hadn't considered at all. Maybe it was better that way – if I thought about it too much, I might chicken out.

As I was pulling on my shoes and getting ready to step into the darkening evening again, my cell phone rang. It was Alice – she was one step ahead of me as always.

_"Don't take a cab," _she told me. _"I'll pick you up."_

I thanked her quietly, feeling relieved that I didn't need to go cab hunting at such a late hour. Walking over to the window, I gave myself a mental pep talk while waiting for her. It was no use, because I didn't even know what to tell myself, let alone what to say when I would get to where I was about to go.

My time ran out quicker than I thought. As I pulled up the zipper of my coat, bright headlights of a car sweeped across my yard only a couple of minutes after Alice's phone call. She must have been somewhere nearby, because even she couldn't drive that fast all the way from Ithaca.

I hurried out and walked briskly to the car, determined not to get cold feet. It was then when I noticed that Alice hadn't arrived with the familiar, black Mercedes. This car was was a blood red Ferrari. I shook my head as I opened the door and got in.

She was beaming at me, clearly enjoying my reluctance. "Nice, isn't it?" she asked as she turned the car around with an enviable ease. "I borrowed it from Jasper."

"Borrowed it or stole it?" I asked dryly.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

People on their way to bars and restaurants stopped to stare at us as we drove down the streets. I sank down in my seat, trying to shrink and become insivible. I'd forgotten it was Saturday, and there were lot of people on the move.

"What do you have against pretty cars, Bella?" Alice asked, sounding both amused and miffed.

"Nothing," I stated. "This one just happens to be a little... flashy."

Alice gave me a wink as we got to the highway. "It's also fast." The engine growled ominously as she pushed down the gas pedal. I closed my eyes, determined not to look at the speedometer.

"Thanks for picking me up," I said when I'd gotten used to the speed and finally dared to open my eyes. "I know it's a bit late for a social call."

"It's not that late," she smirked. "Not for us."

"Right." I snorted softly and glanced at the dark sceneries whizzing by. I began to wonder why Alice had borrowed Jasper's car instead of taking Carlisle's Mercedes. Did it mean that he was still in Alaska?

I wanted to ask her about it, but then decided not to. Mostly because I didn't know which answer would soothe me more. I knew I wanted to, _needed_ to see him, but I still didn't know what to say to him. Not even after all these days.

But if he was still in Alaska... if he hadn't wanted to come back by now... Did it mean that I had broken something between us by walking away that night? By turning my back on him and not saying a word? What if I had offended him with my actions so severely that he wanted to stay away?

I suddenly felt like someone who was drowning. Like someone who was barely staying above the surface, every so often inhaling water instead of air.

I cleared my throat quietly. "Anything new?" I inquired from Alice. The question had become a habit during the past few months. It was a routine-like action I was beginning to grow tired of repeating.

She shook her head, just like I had expected her to. I wasn't the only one repeating the same pattern, but it seemed like having to give the same answer to my question over and over again was taking its toll on her.

"No," she sighed. "The Volturi are still in Italy. I'm keeping an eye on them, especially Aro, but it seems that they don't have a thought to spare for you." She frowned.

"Well, that's a good thing," I pointed out, confused by her worried expression. "Right?"

"Of course." She nodded her head, glancing at me before looking at the road again. "It's just that... something feels amiss. Because I had that vision of you last fall, it has to mean that they had decided to do _something _about you. Otherwise I wouldn't have seen it."

"Right," I prodded, not really sure what she was getting at. "So...?"

"So why are they so... _inactive_ now? It seems like they don't think about you at all."

"You said it yourself a few days ago," I pointed out. "You told me that it may take years before they decide to take action. And Carlisle said that they don't see time as humans do." I clamped my mouth shut – thinking about Carlisle was suddenly very painful. An image came to my mind, an image of the snowy yard bathing in moonlight and the footprints in the snow. For the first time in days, I dared to wonder what had been going through his mind when he had turned back midway across the yard and decided not to follow me.

Instead of air, I was breathing in water again.

Alice's voice sounded from somewhere far away. "That's true," she admitted. For a moment, I had to struggle to remember what we had been talking about. "The Volturi might have more pressing issues to deal with at the moment. It could explain their inactivity." She gave me a reassuring smile. "Don't mind me, Bella. I'm just over-analyzing everything again."

"That doesn't sound like you at all."

She gave a laugh, and seemed to relax after that. But I couldn't help but wonder if there was something behind her suspicions. The Volturi's inactivity should have been a relief, but somehow it seemed almost ominous. It felt like a calm before the storm.

As the Cullens' house came into sight, I momentarily forgot my worries. The old, Gothic style house took my breath away as always. I smiled at the sight of two oil lanterns adorning the snowy veranda. The view was like from a holiday card. Since it was almost in the middle of the night, the house should have looked dark and dormant, but there was light coming out of almost every window.

Some houses never slept.

Alice drove the car towards a separate garage. The doors began to roll open, and as the headlights filled the dark space of the garage, they revealed another car waiting inside. It was black and sleek and refined, and so very familiar.

My heart gave an unsteady leap. I had to remind myself that this was what I had been hoping for. That this was why I had come here tonight.

I was feeling oddly disconnected as I followed Alice to the house. Jasper was there, leaning casually against the pillar of the veranda. I had an urge to cringe at his choice of clothing. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt even though it was freezing.

"Evening, Bella," he drawled with his Southern accent. One side of his mouth was quirked up in a smile. "It's quite past your bedtime."

I rolled my eyes at his jest. "Luckily you can't ground me."

Grinning, he turned around to open the door for me. I was slightly taken aback by his easy demeanor – he was behaving like I hadn't been gone at all. Like I hadn't secluded myself into my apartment for several endless days.

When we got inside, Alice began to hustle around me and offered to make me tea, but I declined. I looked around me surreptitiously, but yet tried not to look like I was searching for something – or someone. But Alice, perceptive as ever, caught my eye and cocked her head towards the living room.

"Come," she beckoned and grabbed my hand. "You'd better keep that coat on."

I frowned, confused, but followed her without a protest. She led me across the burgundy hall, turning to me again once we had stepped into the living room.

"You haven't seen the best part of this place yet," she said. "And the funny thing is that it's not even inside the house." She walked across the room to a door that couldn't have been there the last time I had visited. I knew it because I would have remembered it. It was a beautiful door with wooden frames and ornamental glass panels.

"You've been busy again," I noted.

Alice shrugged. "The house didn't have a backdoor," she explained, "so I made one. Or well, Jasper did. I wanted an easy access to the garden." She grabbed the door knob and pulled. I wondered why she had wanted an easy access outside now when the winter was its worst – why not wait until summer to install a door?

I went closer to take a peek outside, not really expecting to see anything since it was almost midnight. But when I got to the door, I stopped dead in my tracks, making Alice grin widely beside me.

I had expected to see a dark, sad sight of an abandoned garden sleeping under the snow. But it seemed like winter's long, cold fingers hadn't quite reached this place. There was snow, yes, and it was cold too. But the huge garden lacked the darkness I'd expected.

There was a path winding around the huge garden, looking like a small river of light. Every few meters there was a small, round lamp peeking from the white ground, casting soft light on the old paving stones that had been cleared of snow.

Alice nudged me forward, causing me to snap out of my trance. Stuffing my hands deep into my pockets, I turned to give her a glance. She gave me an encouraging eyebrow raise, nodding towards the far end of the garden. I turned to look, but couldn't see anyone from where I was standing. The winding, lighted path disappeared behind a large group of bushes.

I took a step forward, giving one more unsure glance at Alice. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a playful wave, then disappeared through the door and closed it behind her.

With calm steps, I began to make my way along the paved pathway. I kept my pace slow, still feeling slightly uncertain and also nervous. Trying to keep my nerves at bay, I began to observe the beautiful, old garden around me. It was big, a lot bigger that I'd expected, and it looked both well kept and forgotten; it was a curious contradiction. The trees needed pruning and some bushes needed cutting back, but I had to admit that the wildly grown garden looked very charming. It was easy to imagine what it would look like in the summer. Leaves of dark green, roses of dark red, white hydrangeas instead of the softly glowing lamps...

I was so absorbed by my surroundings that it took a while to notice that I was soon nearing the end of the path. As I tore my gaze away from a group of bare apple trees, I saw a figure standing two dozen yards away under a huge oak. That was where the garden ended and the forest began; where the last light peeked from the snow and casted soft light into darkness.

The figure was standing somewhere at the border of light and shadows, almost like he didn't belong to either side. His face was turned towards the sky where the light of the waning moon competed with the stars.

For a while, I just stood there and stared. Stared, and took in his presence.

Looking at him felt like the first breath after being submerged too long.

I knew he was aware of my presence, but still he spent a moment or two more watching the night sky. When he finally turned to look at me, the look in his eyes showed many emotions at the same time. There was a fleeting flicker of joy and relief in his gaze, but then his face turned hesitant. His expression mirrored my own feelings. Because suddenly, I didn't know what to say. What to do. For days I'd thought about the things I should tell him, tried to make the mess in my head into words and feelings and decisions, but now when he was there, right in front of me, those words, those feelings, those decisions, seemed to elude me.

Carlisle kept watching me from the distance, the look in his eyes kind, but cautious. It reminded me of the way someone might observe an injured animal - it was a mix of compassion and wariness. It was almost like he was wondering whether or not it was okay to come closer.

I searched for words. To tell him that it _was _alright. To tell him that I wouldn't flee like last time.

But then it was me going to him. My feet worked on their own their accord as I walked calmly forward and wrapped my arms around myself. I stopped a few paces away from him, not shying away from his eyes as he met my gaze.

"Hey." The greeting leaving my lips was quiet, disappearing into the night like a shadow.

Carlisle gave me a nod. "Evening, Bella."

I tightened my arms around me as if I were cold, once again searching for the right words. Words that would ease the sudden strain between us.

The thing was, those words still refused to come.

I drew in a deep breath as if I were about to dive under water. "You're back from Alaska," I blurted out, eventually deciding that any words would do right now.

Carlisle nodded. "I came back this morning."

"Right." I bit my lip, quickly glancing at the ground. Our exchange was stiff, almost like we were perfect strangers to each other. Almost like we didn't know each other at all.

But we weren't strangers. Or at least... we didn't used to be.

The silence stretched on. It was a torturous silence. I knew it was me who should end it - I was the one who had brought it on in the first place.

But I didn't even know how to start. How to begin to mend something that was so important, something that I hadn't quite even known that existed. Until now. Now, when I was in the brink of losing that something.

Or had I already lost it? Had I unknowingly thrown it away days ago by staying silent and walking away?

The thought hit me like a wrecking ball, making my very core shudder.

It was Carlisle who spoke next; he was still watching me carefully. "How are you, Bella?"

"I'm..." The answer died away before I could speak it. I'd been about to say that I was fine – but it would have been a lie, and this was no time for lies.

Therefore, I decided to be entirely honest.

"I'm miserable," I said bluntly.

Something flickered in Carlisle's eyes a moment before he cast his eyes to the ground. "It's understandable."

I frowned at his response and realized that he must have misunderstood. He probably thought that it was the threat of the Volturi and their possible interference that burdened my mind. Well, of course it was, but it obviously wasn't the only thing weighing me down.

"Listen," I began, letting out a deep breath and uncrossing my arms. "I'm not nearly as good at apologies as I'd like... so just bear with me."

Carlisle's eyes flicked up from the ground and surveyed my face. "Apologies?" he asked, now frowning. "Why on earth would you need to apologize?"

"Because of my recent behaviour," I stated, holding his gaze. "I shouldn't have left your house so abruptly after you had told me about the Volturi and offered to change me. And I shouldn't have holed up in my apartment for days and pretend that nothing happened." I paused, my shoulders rising to a shrug. "I suppose that was just me reacting badly to an unexpected situation. I didn't know what to think and how to feel about everything. And, well... I just wish I had acted differently. That's all."

Carlisle took a step closer. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out and touch my arm, but at the last moment he stopped himself. "Bella, of course I understand that you needed time to process everything I had told you. And besides, it is I who should apologize. My approach on the matter of changing you... " He paused, searching for words. "Springing it on you like that was very indelicate of me. You had enough on your mind with everything I had told you about the Volturi. My suggestion to change you... Bringing up that particular matter wasn't appropriate and surely put a lot of unneeded pressure on you." He crossed his arms, lowering his eyes to the ground again. The expression on his face was almost mortified.

I quirked my brow. "Are you backing out on your offer?" I asked, half joking. I made a mental note about it; if I was able to joke about this matter, it had to mean I was coming to terms with it.

Carlisle looked up from the ground again. "Of course not. I meant everything what I said the last time I saw you."

I nodded leisurely, a mild sensation of relief washing over me. I hardly noticed the feeling, but acknowledged it nonetheless. Maybe I had needed to hear him say it, needed to know that his words had been true and honest.

Carlisle was watching me, maybe trying to figure out what was going on in my head. "I tell you this because I want you to know that there is an option. But the last thing I want is for this to become a burden to you. We will keep you safe from the Volturi in any way that we possibly can. It doesn't mean that you have to be changed. We'll find another way."

Pondering his words, I took another step closer and wrapped my arms around myself again. I noticed there was a beautiful stone bird bath under the oak; it looked very old. The water gathered on the bottom of it was frozen, and I reached out to touch it, feeling how the ice melted under the tip of my finger.

"You know," I began, my voice quiet and pensive, "what really dawned to me during these past few days is that I don't really care about my own safety if I know that someone else is at risk of getting hurt because of me." I looked up from the bird bath, noticing that Carlisle was watching me carefully. "I have to admit that I didn't realize it right away. After you had offered to change me, I kept thinking about the things I'd undoubtedly lose if I have to become a vampire. I kept thinking about my parents, my future, my dreams... everything."

Carlisle nodded. "Of course you did. I'd be surprised if you hadn't. You're completely entitled to think about those things."

"Maybe I am," I granted. "But it took me a shamefully long time to comprehend that I'm not the only one making sacrifices here. Whatever happens, it will affect all of us. If I stay human and the Volturi decide to come and check up on me, you and your entire family will be in danger."

"If it comes to that, we might be able to reason with them."

"You've told me yourself that they don't make exceptions," I reminded him. "And when they find out that you've allowed me to know about the existence of your world for years and haven't changed me or done anything else to silence me, they will punish you." I fell silent for a moment, holding his gaze. "I don't know if I can accept that. I _won't_ accept that."

The slightest of frowns appeared on Carlisle's face. He was quiet for full ten seconds before speaking again. "Do you mean," he eventually said, slowly, "that if it comes to that, you'd rather be changed than let us try to defend you?"

I didn't say anything for a while, mostly because I was having a silent conversation in my head. Suddenly I was feeling very uncertain again; very startled.

Was this the answer? Had I unknowingly come to conclusion about this matter, made the decision to become a vampire without quite even realizing it? Was it the reason why I had been so remote, so sorrowful during these past few days? Because I had been preparing to say goodbye? To my parents, to my life, to everything that was yet to happen? Because I had known all along that this was what I should do?

But was it the right thing to do? Once again, in my mind's eye, I saw the grieving faces of my parents as they endlessly wondered about my fate and eventually lost hope of seeing me again. Could I knowingly cause them that kind of agony? Could I disappear from their life without a trace and leave them with no information about my whereabouts – or alternatively, fake my own death?

Could I really do that to them?

I could only wonder how I had been so willing, so ready to do that eight years ago. I couldn't comprehend how I could have been so thoughtless. But was I any better now? Even though I now knew the complete consequences of my decision, did it change anything for the better?

No. I wasn't less selfish than that eighteen-year-old teenager I had once been. I just knew better what I was really giving up. I acknowledged those things I had so easily ignored eight years ago.

Now I just had to accept them. Easier said than done.

But there was one thing I knew for a fact. One thing that made me step out of myself and see past the sorrow that would come as the result of becoming a vampire. It was that if the Volturi found me while I was still human, the Cullens would pay for it with their lives. I knew it in my bones.

Another mental image popped into my head. I saw each of the Cullens engaging in an endeavor that was doomed from the very start. I saw each of them trying and each of them failing. Red, relentless eyes watched them, giving them no mercy. And after a long series of sickening, metallic snaps and screeches, it was over.

I didn't know what it looked like when the Volturi executed lawbreakers, but that's how I imagined it would happen. No rights. No trials. No chances to explain.

So if there was something I could do to stop that from happening... If there was a chance to keep the Cullens away from harm's way, why shouldn't I grab that chance? Why _wouldn't_ I?

Carlisle was still watching me closely, and I realized I had been quiet unusually long. I decided to answer his earlier question with my own.

"Do you think," I began calmly, "that I could just stand by and watch you get killed if there was a way for me to prevent it?"

Carlisle's face grew grim; I'd never seen him looking like that. He ran a hand across his face in a weary gesture, the expression on his face suddenly very stubborn – another look I had never witnessed before. And then he looked at me straight in the eye, his face so serious that for a moment I was sure he was going to tell me that someone had died or something.

"Bella," he said, speaking slowly. "When I offered to change you, I did it in the belief that you make the decision with your own safety in mind. Not ours."

I watched him for a moment without saying a word. "Do you honestly think that I could do it? Make that kind of a decision, with only my own interest at heart? And not think about anyone else?"

Carlisle was motionless, like a statue. As he stood there, unnaturally still in the darkness of the night and with the shadows dancing on his pale face, he had never looked more vampire to me.

"You should," he answered calmly. "But if you cannot, I'm not so sure if I'm willing to go through with it."

"Oh," I huffed. "Are you setting conditions now?" I didn't just sound like I was getting angry – I _was _angry. Couldn't he understand what he was asking of me?"

"Bella, I cannot do something so irreversible if I know that you've based your decision on wrong reasons."

A joyless laugh left my lips. "_Wrong reasons?_"

"Yes. You cannot sacrifice your life to preserve ours. You have to understand that I can't – I could not live with myself if – " He fell silent, seeming to be at a loss of words. He gave a long, weary sigh. "I cannot let you do that for us. And I won't."

"You're not the only one able to do it," I reminded him, my voice sounding ridiculously defiant even in my own ears. "There are others who can change me."

Carlisle looked at me sharply. "Alice will not do it either. When she finds out about your motive – and she _will_ find out – she's going to agree with me. I have no doubt about it." After that, he turned away from me, rubbing the back of his neck and bowing his head as if he were exhausted.

I glared at his turned back, as if my stare could force him to turn around and face me again. Maybe it could have, I didn't know, but I was too impatient to try.

"You seem so willing to sacrifice yourselves for me," I heard myself fuming, feeling the skin of my cheeks burning against the cold air. "And you expect me to accept it without a question. But I need to ask you, what makes you think I don't have the right to do the same for you? If becoming a vampire is the solution to all this mess, why shouldn't I do it?"

"Because it is not merely a solution," Carlisle answered. Even though he was facing the other way and speaking very quietly, I could hear every word with perfect clarity. "There is nothing temporary about it. Once it is done, there's no going back. You could end up regretting your desicion for the rest of your infinite existence – especially if you haven't made this kind of a choice for yourself, but for someone else." His head dropped even more, his voice growing softer, if possible. "If you now look back at these last eight years, wouldn't you say that there are a lot of things you wouldn't give up? Things that you couldn't have experienced if you had become a vampire eight years ago?"

I didn't say anything for a while – I didn't want to admit that he was right. I tightened my arms around myself, vaguely realizing that I was getting cold, but I hardly paid attention to it.

"Of course there's much I wouldn't give up," I admitted eventually. "And a part of me is glad that Edward put his foot down back then. But things are different now. The whole situation is different now. No one's life was in danger eight years ago. Things change. You should know it better than me," I added, a reproachful note in my voice.

Carlisle's posture changed. He raised his head but crossed his arms, and I guessed that my words had done little to change his stance towards the issue. The storm somewhere inside me had eased off for a short while, but now I felt it gathering within me again.

"Why did you offer to change me, then?" I asked, making an effort to keep my voice calm. "Why did you offer to change me if you weren't ready to hear an honest answer from me?" On a whim, I grasped his sleeve, tired of having a conversation with the back of his head.

Carlisle turned at my touch, his eyes meeting mine. His movement was so quick that I jumped, but I managed to repress the instinctive urge to take a step back. I was standing so close to him that I could feel the coolness of his body through my clothes. It was a different kind of coolness than the biting, frosty air around us. I vaguely realized that my hand was still grasping the sleeve of his coat; vaguely realized that I shouldn't stand so close to him.

"Why?" I heard myself asking again. But instead of sounding angry, my voice was just confused. Quiet. Almost frail.

Carlisle looked at me for a long time without saying a word. At first the look on his face was almost pained, but then his eyes, the color of golden ochre, grew softer. My skin was so numb from the cold night air that I almost didn't notice when he lifted his hand to touch the line of my jaw. And when I did become aware of his quick, tender touch, he had already drawn his hand away.

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do," he answered simply. His voice was quiet, as if he was trying not to wake the sleeping world around us. "Because even after all this time I've known you, I still tend to overlook your inner strength and expect you to behave like the majority of people would behave. I should have foreseen that you would consider our lives more important than yours. I should have known that you'd be willing to let go of your human life and everything you hold dear, and do it all for beings like us. Beings who can barely claim to be alive."

"You are equally prepared to do the same for me," I reminded him. "You've risked your lives for me in the past, and now you're ready to do it all over again. And it insults me that you think that I'm somehow less devoted to you. That I wouldn't be ready to risk myself for you like you are for me."

Carlisle's expression was wistful. "I didn't mean to question your devotion."

"But you are." I held his gaze, unconsciously tightening my hold his sleeve.

He let out a quiet breath. "I only wish..." he began, but his words trailed away, disappeared into the silence.

"Wish what?" I asked softly.

There was a sad shade in Carlisle's eyes. "I wish that you didn't need to be in this position. I wish you weren't feeling responsibility for our safety. I wish... I wish the circumstances were different."

His last sentence stirred a distant memory in me. At first I couldn't pin it down, but when I repeated his words in my head again, I suddenly remembered that Saturday morning weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime since I'd been sitting in his car, on my way to see their house for the first time.

"_It is unfortunate that the past repeats itself this way,_" Carlisle had said. "_I wish we were here under different circumstances._"

More than once, I had found myself wondering what he had meant by saying that.

I looked up to see his face, and I realized we were still standing very close to each other. A little too close. Carlisle was watching me, studying my face intently as if to memorize it. I was still clinging to the sleeve of his coat, for some reason unable to make myself let go.

I tried to remember how to form words. That simple action seemed suddenly very difficult.

"Things are the way they are," I managed to say eventually, almost whispering. "And there's nothing we can do to change it. We just have to make the best of what we have." I paused, holding his gaze. "And if worse comes to worst and the Volturi arrive... you have to understand that I can't just stand by and watch you and your entire family get slaughtered. You can't ask that of me."

Carlisle's eyes dropped to the ground for a short while. He seemed to be having some inner struggle with himself as he avoided my eyes, eventually reaching out to touch my hand that was still gripping his sleeve. I loosened my hold and drew my hand back, but Carlisle caught it, clasping it tight.

"We could protect you in other ways," he proposed quietly, still not given up. "You wouldn't have to give up your life. If we – "

"You can't protect me indefinitely," I disagreed, gently cutting him off. My voice was still nearing a whisper. The tone of our conversation had gone from tense and heated to quiet and hushed in less than a minute. "Is it even possible to hide from them? Who is to say that they don't have the means to find someone if they want?"

Carlisle's expression didn't change the slightest, but I felt slight pressure around my hand as he momentarily tightened his hold. That small thing gave him away. I looked at him in the eye without saying a word, and eventually he sighed, lowering his gaze and releasing my hand from his grasp.

Looking resigned, he ran a weary hand through his hair and turned to look at one of the small lamps peeking from the snow. The golden light reflected from his eyes, making them look very bright.

"They have a tracker," he admitted with a quiet voice. "Without one, they couldn't operate effectively."

"A tracker?" I quirked my brow, the word wakening memories I'd have rather left behind. "Like James?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes, but an individual whose abilities are highly advanced. You see, scent is not the only thing vampires can follow to track their prey. The concept is much more complex. For instance, James was able to sense in advance what his prey's moves would be – that was why it was so challenging to hide you from him."

The memory his words brought up gave me chills, making me shiver, but I ignored the feeling and hoped that Carlisle wouldn't notice; I wanted to hear more.

Luckily, he was still staring at the light peeking from the snow. "I have an old friend I haven't seen in ages – Alistair is his name – and he possesses a similar gift. He feels an elusive pull towards whatever or whoever he is seeking. All he has to do then is to follow that pull, and he will find what he's looking for."

"And the Volturi have someone like him in their ranks?" I asked. "And they can use that vampire to find you and your family if they want?"

Carlisle turned to look at me, nodding. "Yes," he answered, his face grim. "Or you."

I ignored his last two words. I was far past the point of worrying about my own safety. "Can't you see now?" I asked, begging him with my eyes to understand. "If the Volturi find you, they will kill all of you for letting me know about the existence of vampires. Think about your family, Carlisle, think about the Denalis – they know about me too, and therefore their lives are on the line as well. You can't put my life above everyone else's." I shivered again. The cold was creeping into my clothing, and I wrapped my arms around myself in attempt to keep myself warm.

This time, Carlisle noticed my shivers. "Forgive me," he apologized. "I didn't realize how cold it is. We should go inside."

I hesitated, thinking that our coversation was more important than my temporary discomfort. But when Carlisle beckoned me to walk with him, I gave in and fell into step with him. For a while, it was silent except for the sound of our footfalls as we made our way along the curving path. I studied my surroundings in silence, once again admiring the illuminaion of the garden.

"The lights are charming," I told Carlisle, momentarily digressing from the topic. "Were they Alice's idea?"

"Esme's." He smiled softly. "She had them installed soon after we had moved here from Forks eight years ago. I suppose it was her way of trying to brighten up our time here." His tone wasn't grim, only slightly melancholy, but something about his words troubled me.

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully, venturing to take a look at him.

Carlisle met my glance, the expression on his face ruminative. "We were all more or less sorrowful when we came here," he explained. "We had just left behind a town that felt like a home. When you're moving from place to place once in every few years, you tend to get attached to some locations more than to others. I suppose it's not very wise, since we know that we can never stay long." He paused, glancing at the golden lights lining the path. "I think Esme took it the hardest. But she still tried to keep us united. When Edward, and eventually Rosalie and Emmett, decided to leave for a while to be on their own, not a day went by that she didn't call them or try be in contact with them some other way."

It sounded just like what Esme would do. Keep the family together when it was in danger of falling apart. Search the lost, shattered pieces and glue them back again. Carlisle was the patriarch of the family, the founder, the creator. But Esme was the net beneath them, catching anyone who might fall.

"It must be hard to know that wherever you go, you'll never be able to settle down," I murmured, trying to imagine what it would be like and warily wondering if I had to find out someday. "It's almost like you are saying goodbye before you've even arrived."

Carlisle nodded, giving me a searching look. "Exactly," he said quietly.

I looked away from his eyes, not wanting him to know how much the idea of constant moving unsettled me. I remembered feeling pure relief after I'd realized that Buffalo was the place I wanted to live in. The feeling could've had something to do with the fact that I'd spend the past months traveling around the U.S, but deep down I knew that there had been something more to it. It had given me a sense of some odd fulfillment to realize that this city would become my home – that the search I hadn't been even aware of was over.

For the millionth time that day, I was sorting out my feelings. I knew that if the situation came to it and if I had to become a vampire, this city was yet another thing I'd have to walk away from.

"Leaving behind places you've learned to love can be difficult," I heard Carlisle saying, dragging me away from my ponderings. For a moment I thought I'd spoken my thoughts aloud, but then I realized he was just continuing where he'd left off. "But eventually it's always the people who you are with that matter more. It's not so hard to arrive to a foreign town when you have a family around you." He turned to look at me again. "That's why leaving Forks and coming to Ithaca was so hard for us; we felt like we'd left one of us behind."

We stopped, having reached the stone steps of the backdoor. His words seemed to hover in the air between us long after they'd been spoken. I suddenly didn't know what to say to him – what was there to say? If I had known the real reason behind their departure, if I hadn't believed Edward's words so blindly that day when he'd said goodbye... Many things could have possibly gone very differently.

It seemed that the Cullens had lived in the shadow of what had happened for a long time after they'd left Forks. It almost made me feel guilty. After all, in time, I'd moved on from everything that had occurred during those short few months I'd spent with them. It hadn't happened fast and painlessly, but it had happened nonetheless. Did it mean that I hadn't cared as much as they had?

No. Of course I had cared. Even more than that – I had loved.

I stepped through the door Carlisle was now holding open for me. I was still searching for words to respond to his earlier statement when he spoke again, following me inside and shutting the door behind us.

"Bella," he said, my name sounding almost like a sigh as it left his lips. A very tired sigh. The living room was pleasantly warm – someone had made a fire in the fireplace in the corner of the room. Nonetheless, I wrapped my arms around myself as I turned to him, almost as if to protect myself from his next words.

The look in his eyes was resigned again. He looked at me in silence for a while before guiding me to sit on one of the couches close to the fireplace.

"A moment ago you said," he began, sitting down next to me and leaning his elbows to his knees, "that I shouldn't put your life above everyone else's."

I nodded, holding his gaze. "Yeah. That's what I said."

He let out a quiet breath and linked his fingers, looking like he was deep in thought. He was silent for full two minutes before speaking again.

"Imagine if the Volturi weren't behind the vision Alice had of you," he requested, speaking slowly. "Imagine if they didn't know about you at all. Would you still be willing to become a vampire? If you didn't need to worry about our safety along your own?"

I quirked my brow in confusion, opening my mouth and then closing it again.

"I don't know," I said eventually.

Carlisle looked at me pointedly. His eyes were kind, but serious. "If you were able to say "yes" without hesitation, I'd be more than willing to grant you your request. I want you to understand that the only reason why I hesitate is that I don't want you to have to make a decision like this if you're not absolutely sure you won't regret it. You don't want me to put your life and safety above our own, but please understand that I'm equally unwilling to put ours before yours."

"I do understand that," I said softly. "I do. But I suppose I'm just trying to choose the lesser of two evils here. If I became a vampire, no one would have to die. I know what I would be giving up, and I know it a lot better than eight years ago. I'm not saying that it would be easy – I'm not that naive. I _know_ it's not going to be easy. I acknowledge it." I paused, holding his gaze. "But if I stay human, you and your family, and the Denalis... the Volturi will destroy all of you. And what do you think is going to happen to me then?" I gave a sad laugh. "No matter how you look at it... there's only one reasonable way to solve this."

Carlisle unlinked his fingers and ran a hand across his brow. I could see the battle in his eyes, the compassion, the fear, the effort to understand me and accept my words.

"But what will it cost you?" he asked, very quietly. I had a feeling he was talking to himself and not to me, but I answered, nonetheless.

"Everything has its costs. Life doesn't come without them." I lowered my voice. "It's just a loan when you really think about it. Life, I mean."

Carlisle turned to gaze at me. His eyes were full of sorrow. "That is why we should value it. Why you should."

"And I do," I assured.

We stared at each other in silence. The living room was dim and shadowed, the only light coming from the fireplace and the small table lamp across the room. There was a peaceful feel to this room. It seemed almost silly that we were having a serious discussion like this within its four walls. That we were talking about death and destruction, about how perishable life was. How fragile.

I suddenly realized that on some level I'd one time thought that the Cullens were somehow beyond all those things – death and destruction, the ending of life. That somehow those things couldn't reach them. That as immortals, they'd be safe from them. I wasn't sure when exactly that image had shattered – when exactly I'd realized that as unbreakable as they seemed, they weren't imperishable.

I now knew that there were no such things as immortality or eternity. There was just life, this one life, and someday we might have to give it up.

"Will you promise me?" I asked quietly, still looking into Carlisle's ochre eyes. "Promise me that whatever happens, whatever comes to pass, you'll trust my judgement and respect my decision, regardless of the reason behind it?"

The flames of the fireplace reflected in his eyes as he watched me, staying silent for one endless moment. I didn't flinch at the coolness of his skin as he suddenly reached out and took my hand in his own. The expression on his face was no longer resigned, no longer sorrowful, but with each passing second, his eyes grew more serious.

And then, fully aware of the weight of his next words and the thundering pulse in my veins, he finally tightened his hold of my hand and nodded.

"You have my word."

The flames in the fireplace sparked and flared as if to seal his quiet vow.

* * *

**AN: **Sorry it took so long! I was pulling out my hair with this one and I still don't know if I'm happy with it. I wanted Bella and Carlisle to reach some form of agreement and avoid repeating the Edward-pattern ("I want to be a vampire, change me." "Nope." "But I - " "_No_."). You get the point. I wanted both Bella and Carlisle to understand where the other is coming from and be realistic about the situation since the Volturi might be involved.

_"You're not the only one able to do it." _and "_You have my word." _are quotes from Stephenie Meyer's _New Moon. _Information about James' tracker abilities are found in the book called _The Twilight Saga: __The Officcial Illustrated Guide._

I'm already working on the next chapter and hopefully I'll be able to finish it in time. I hope you're all enjoying your summer!


	16. In My Heart Of Hearts

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

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**_"There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book."_****  
**

\- Josh Jameson -

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**In My Heart Of Hearts  
**

It was past three in the morning when Carlisle took me home. He kindly offered me the chance to spend the night at their house since it was so late, but I declined, much to Alice's disappointment. For some reason, I felt this strange yearning to go home. It was the same compelling need that had come over me the last time I'd left their house. Fortunately the situation, not to mention my state of mind, was completely different this time.

Last time when I'd walked out of their door, I'd been upset and distraught, not knowing what to think and how to feel. But now, I knew I'd managed to sort some things out with myself. Reaching some form of agreement with Carlisle was a relief as well. I knew he now understood my point of view when it came to the question of becoming a vampire, but I also knew it might take some time until he accepted it completely.

Our conversation and the differences in our opinions had inevitably brought back memories of Forks and Edward, of our endless arguments about this very same matter. I couldn't help but notice how similar, yet different, the situation was now. Edward too had been reluctant to take away my human life, fearing the possibility that I might someday regret my decision to join them. On top of that, he had also been afraid that by changing me, he would endanger my soul.

I wasn't entirely sure how Carlisle felt about that particular matter, but I had a feeling he wasn't so quick to jump to the conclusion that becoming a vampire unquestionably meant that your soul was lost. He wouldn't have dared to change anyone of his family if he believed in something like that. I knew it.

All those years ago when Edward had refused to consider my request to be changed, he had left no room to negotiate. And eventually he had gone even greater lengths than I'd thought possible. He had left, disappeared without a trace and believed that my human mind, no more than a sieve, would simply let go of all the memories as enough time passed.

He had a lot to learn about humans, I realized. After facing ordeals, we had to move on and go on with our lives – I could grant him that. But did we really forget?

No.

That was another difference between Edward and Carlisle. Even though Carlisle had disagreed with me, he had still been willing to listen, and even more than that. Regardless of his own opinion, he had accepted my view and made a promise to respect it. He'd keep that promise. I was sure of it.

And as for my part... I knew I'd stand behind my words and feelings, no matter how hard it would be to see this through. If it turned out that the Cullens' lives were on the line, I knew I couldn't just stand by and watch them get killed. Not if there was something I could do to prevent it.

It almost confused me to realize how unwavering my resolve came to be. I also realized that this was a different kind of determination from what I'd felt eight years ago. Back then, I'd been willing to become a vampire out of love for another person. I had wanted to spend an eternity with that person so we'd never have to be apart.

It was affection and emotion urging me on this time, too. But now, the picture was bigger. Different. Unlike back then, I now knew there were crueler things that separation and heartbreak. There were worse fates than being apart from the one you cared for. There were troubles, adversities and hardships I couldn't have even begun to imagine back then.

Despite the serious nature of the situation, I was feeling oddly calm most of the time. It was strange since I knew that these could very well be my last weeks, my last days, my last moments as a human. That bubble of calm surrounded me as I drifted through my days and went on with my life as normally as I could. But sometimes that bubble broke, catching me unawares, and then I usually caught myself wandering around in my apartment and staring at the walls, as if preparing to say goodbye to my home. Eventually it became hard, because I felt like no matter where I looked, I was saying quiet farewells. Even dealing with the customers at the bookstore could stir a sudden welling of grief whenever I least expected it.

Sometimes I felt like my feelings came in layers, and I kept peeling off layer after layer after layer, going from determined to calm and from calm to sad and from sad to determined again, struggling to get to the heart and core of my feelings. But eventually, I always had to begin again where I had started. It was then when I was beginning to fully appreciate and admire Jasper's serene nature. He had that mayhem of emotions in his head all the time, and only a fraction of those emotions were his own. I couldn't understand how he could bear it.

One evening as I was standing in the silence of my living room, I realized that the answer was surprisingly simple. He endured it because he had to. Because he had no choice.

I released a deep sigh, reaching out with my hand to place a picture of Charlie and Sue on the table. It had been taken just a few moments after they had been married – Sue had sent it to me in the mail soon after their wedding.

The rest of the picture frames were turned down. I began to flip them back up one by one, not knowing why I had turned them over in the first place. Maybe I was trying to make myself get used to the idea of never seeing the people in the pictures again.

I flipped over yet another framed picture – it was of Renée standing on a sunny, windy beach. She looked young and happy as she stood there, the waves of the ocean caressing her ankles. She was laughing; she had smile wrinkles around her eyes.

I wondered who had taken that picture; I wondered what it was that had made her smile so much. I had never bothered to ask even though I'd had that picture for years.

I sensed a quiet presence behind me and turned my head to acknowledge Alice's arrival.

"Ready?" she asked quietly, coming to stand next to me.

I nodded, lowering the picture on the table. "Yeah," I answered, drawing in a deep breath. "Yeah, why not. Since we've already been breaking rules here, it doesn't really matter if we go all the way."

"That's the spirit," she grinned. Then she gave a confused glance at the chaos on the table – some of the picture frames were still faced down. She tilted her brow questioningly as she looked at me.

I ignored her glance, turning my back on the faces watching me from the frames and making my way to the front door. Alice followed me with soundless steps, locking the door behind us and skittering across the yard towards Carlisle's Mercedes. We got inside in silence and didn't speak until reaching the highway.

I was on my way to Ithaca again. A couple of days ago I had suggested that since the situation was what it was, some kind of info session was in order. If the Volturi sooner or later decided to act and search me out, I wanted to be as prepared as I could. If I was to become a vampire, I wanted to know everything there was to know about it. I wanted to know what it was like being a newborn and what the Cullens had to go through everyday to be able to live among humans. Most of all, I wanted to hear experiences, and not sugar-coated ones.

I was also interested to learn more about the Volturi and their backgrounds. Carlisle had already told me some things about them, but I knew I'd barely scratched the surface.

Jasper had agreed with my suggestion, thinking that it was a good idea that I knew certain things beforehand. I knew none of the Cullens had had the same privilege before their transformation. They had woken to this life without knowing what had happened and why, and it was impossible to imagine the fear and confusion they'd felt after opening their eyes and finding out that their hearts were no longer beating.

Of course Carlisle had been there to guide and support Edward, Esme, Rosalie and Emmett after their change, and therefore they hadn't been entirely alone in it. Alice, on the other hand, had been changed by an old vampire who had eventually died protecting her. James had told me that all those years ago – he had believed that I wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone about it.

I wasn't so sure about Jasper, about his past and how his eternal life had begun. He had always been sort of a mystery to me. I'd have to ask him about it someday, about the beginning of his vampire life and how he had come to know Alice and the rest of the Cullens.

And then there was Carlisle. It was impossible to forget the moment when I'd heard his story in Forks all those years ago. I remembered Edward telling me about how Carlisle had rebelled against his nature, choosing to wither and starve instead of succumbing to his thirst. The amount of willpower it must have demanded... I couldn't even begin to comphrehend it.

Edward had told me that Carlisle had loathed himself so much that he had tried to destroy himself by trying to drown himself in the ocean and jumping from great heights. The thought brought on a mental image of him standing on the edge of a cliff, an empty and hollow expression in his eyes. I could see it all clearly, way too clearly, as he closed his eyes one last time and let himself fall over the edge...

I shook myself mentally to get rid of the image. It was too terrifying. I cleared my throat quietly, trying find something else to think about.

I looked at Alice's face, I mean really _looked_ at her for the first time today. Her appearance made me frown.

"What's with the eyes?" I asked.

She looked away from the icy road ahead, her pitch black eyes meeting my brown ones. I wondered why I hadn't noticed the color of her eyes before – she looked like she was in a serious need of hunt.

"Aren't you in pain when you have to be this close to me?" I asked. "Why haven't you hunted?" I wasn't worried about my safety, because I knew Alice wouldn't lose control, but it puzzled me that she had let her thirst get this bad. I hadn't seen her in a few days, and it made me wonder what she had been up to.

She shrugged at my words. "I've been... preoccupied," she murmured an answer, avoiding my eyes. "Don't worry, I'll go tonight."

"What's kept you so preoccupied that you haven't had the time to hunt?"

"I'll explain later," she answered evasively. "I promise."

An indefinable worry began to nag at me. She probably sensed that I wasn't satisfied with her answers because she quickly changed the topic.

"So," she said and turned to give me a grin. "How is married life treating Charlie?"

I smiled, despite myself. Last week I'd told Alice about Charlie's and Sue's surprise wedding, but it wasn't hard to guess that she had already known about it.

"Fine, I suppose. They should be back from Hawaii by now," I answered her. "I'll probably call them in a few days."

"Don't bother," she remarked, smiling. "Sue persuaded Charlie to stay for one extra week."

I raised my brow doubtfully. "Wow. Who would have thought? Charlie hates being away from home."

"Well, maybe he's a changed man." Alice was still smiling. "Love does that sometimes, you know. Changes people."

I remembered thinking something along those same lines when I'd heard about their marriage. Maybe there was some truth in it. I liked to think that while love could change you, it also strengthened who you were in the first place. It didn't alter you as a person, because love shouldn't do that. It shouldn't change who you really were.

"Speaking of marriage and love and weddings," Alice continued, dragging me from my thoughts. "Guess who else are getting married?"

I frowned, too surprised by her question to even try to make a guess.

"Esme and Miguel," she answered, beaming at me.

"Oh." I raised my brow in surprise. "That's great. When?"

"Soon. Probably within a month." She turned to gaze at me again. There was a glimmer in her eyes I hadn't seen in a long time. It was probably the wedding and the perfect excuse to begin fussing that caused it. It pleased me to see her like that. During the past few weeks, there had been way too many shadows in her eyes.

A sudden thought came to me. I wondered if it was the situation that had made Esme and Miguel decide to get married now. Maybe they feared that they wouldn't get another chance. That their endless time would suddenly run out.

"You're invited, by the way," Alice said, once again startling me from my thoughts.

"I am?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course! Esme wants you there, as do the rest of us," she threw me another smile. "She can hardly wait to see you again."

Her words moved me. I suddenly felt like a thousand butterflies took off in my stomach. Now it was more than likely, if not inevitable, that I'd see the rest of the Cullens again, not to mention Edward. I had known all along that I'd run into them sooner or later, but in spite of being aware of the possibility, I began to feel awfully nervous.

"They'll have the wedding in Ithaca, at our house," Alice revealed. "I think it's nice. The Denalis haven't been here that often."

I wondered if it was going to be odd for Carlisle to see Esme getting married to another man. I knew he would be more than happy for them. But he had shared his life with Esme for several decades – it couldn't have been easy for him to see that coming to an end.

"How is Carlisle taking it?" I asked, feeling a little silly because there was really only one way he could react.

"He's really happy for them," Alice answered, predictably. "Esme and Miguel told him about their intentions when he visited them in Alaska. Carlisle was the first to hear about it."

"But not the first to know," I stated, looking at her pointedly.

"Right," she laughed. "Having an inner eye does have its perks. It's impossible to keep me in the dark." Suddenly she frowned, her smug smile falling. "Well, most of the time, at least."

I raised my brow, confused about the sudden change in her mood. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head dismissively. "Never mind."

"Alice," I moaned. "What is it? What is _wrong_?"

"I'm not sure yet. It's probably nothing." She turned to give me a glance. "I'll tell you everything when we get there. I promise."

I sighed, beginning to wonder what else could have gone wrong now. The situation already was rather bad. Was there something that could make it even worse? The Volturi knew about me, and they knew that the Cullens hadn't done anything to silence or change me. And any moment now, they could start planning a visit and decide to do something about it. So yeah, it was pretty difficult to imagine what could make the situation even worse.

I was still racking my brain to come up with an answer when Alice eventually pulled in front of their house. As I rose from the car, I was still lost in my thoughts and barely realized that this was the first time I saw the house in full daylight. But their beautiful home didn't enchant me the way it had used to; feelings of worry took every ounce of my focus.

Once inside, Alice led me to a large room that looked like a combination of dining room and lounge. Carlisle and Jasper were waiting for us there, sitting at a long, wooden table and having a quiet conversation. They fell silent and turned to look at us when we entered. Jasper gave me a nod as a greeting. Carlisle rose from his seat and came around the table. He gave me a quick, reassuring smile and offered me a chair.

Alice skittered across the room and sat down next to Jasper, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. After I had taken my seat across from them, Carlisle pulled himself a chair and sat down next to me.

When I turned to look at him, I noticed he was watching me expectantly. And he wasn't the only one. Alice and Jasper were now looking at me as well, and it took a moment for me to realize that they were all waiting for me to say something. The notion shouldn't have seemed so surprising since I was the one who had asked for this meeting.

I swallowed, not so sure anymore where to start. But there was one thing that was uppermost in my mind, and it was to find out the reason for Alice's strange behaviour.

I raised my brow at her. "So," I said, letting out a breath. "Ready to tell me what's wrong?"

She exchanged a gaze with Carlisle.

"Still no change?" I heard him asking.

Alice shook her head. "No. I'm sorry."

I frowned, listening to their exchange with ever increasing confusion and worry. "What change?" I asked. "What is it?"

Alice bit her lip. "I've told you about the vision I had of you last fall. The one where you've been attacked by someone," she began to explain, her brows knitting together. "It has stayed the same."

I frowned, wondering if this was the only reason she'd been acting so strange. "So?" I asked, not really understanding the problem.

It was Carlisle who spoke next. "Soon after we had arrived to Buffalo, I told you that we had hoped that only our presence here would change the course of events and cause Alice's vision either to disappear or change. As you know, it didn't." He paused, holding my gaze. There was a gravity in his eyes, a set to his to his mouth that made him appear his age. "But now, since you are considering becoming a vampire, Alice's vision of you should have become different. However – " He opened his mouth to complete the sentence, but no words came out.

"It still hasn't changed," I finished for him.

"It should have," Alice piped up. "Ever since Carlisle offered to change you, I've been waiting for the vision to disappear or change. But if anything, it has only gotten a little sharper. It's still more or less obscure, just a quick flash that escapes me just when I'm about to grasp it. I've been trying to concentrate for days so I could get a clearer picture of it."

That explained her black eyes and why I hadn't seen her recently.

I drew in a deep breath, not really knowing what to think. I had to admit that for a long time, I hadn't given a thought to the vision that had brought the Cullens here in the first place.

"I can't see anything past that vision," Alice continued. "It's almost like a veil that hides everything behind it. I've been wondering if the Volturi's intentions could have an impact on it. Do you remember a few days ago when I told you how odd it seems that they haven't decided to act by now?" she asked me.

I nodded. "But if I have made the decision to become a vampire, shouldn't you instantly be able to see the outcome?

"Not necessarily," Jasper joined the conversation. "Not if someone else's decision is involved."

My shoulders sagged as a sudden thought came to me. "Maybe you're just making it more complicated than it really is," I suggested, feeling oddly disconnected from myself. "Maybe your vision means that the Volturi will get me anyway, no matter what I decide. No matter what we do." I raised my eyes from the table to see Alice. "Maybe I'm just trying to run away from the inevitable – as simple as that."

"Don't say such things."

It was Carlisle who had spoken. His voice was quiet and calm, but as I turned to look his way, there was turmoil in his eyes. Turmoil I'd never seen before. He reached out to place his hand on my forearm.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "We cannot say for sure why Alice's vision isn't changing. Several things can have an effect on your future, and it cannot be defined only by the choices and decisions you make. Like Jasper said, someone else's decision can be involved."

"Which only proves what I said," I told him softly. "Maybe it doesn't matter what I decide. Maybe I'm done for anyway." The words just poured out of me, and I didn't know why I was being so blunt about this. I guess I just felt better when I said it out loud without sugar-coating it.

Carlisle tightened his hold of my arm slightly. The turmoil in his eyes grew, making the golden luster of his irises darken. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jasper was faster.

"Bella," he began. I turned to look at him.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he continued. "but you're still more or less torn about your decision to become a vampire. Am I right?"

There was no point denying his words. He knew my feelings better than I did.

"I suppose," I admitted.

Jasper looked at Carlisle. "It's possible that her hesitation can explain why Alice's vision doesn't change. The course of her future is still uncertain."

Carlisle nodded. "That is true." He gave me a pondering glance, his hand slipping from my elbow.

But I knew that it wasn't the case. Even though I was uncertain on an emotional level, deep down I knew that I'd made up my mind.

Why didn't it make a difference, then?

"I still believe there's something else behind this," Alice stated, almost as if to agree with my thoughts. "Like Carlisle said, Bella's decisions aren't the only things that affect her future. Something else has an impact on it." She leaned her face into her hands as if she was having a terrible headache. "It bothers me how clouded and brief the vision is. When I see it, it only lasts a moment, almost like someone is fast forwarding a tape. Bella's face appears just for one split second."

"Like it's just a small fraction of the whole," Jasper filled his, his expression pondering.

"Right." Alice stared at the table top, the look on her face mimicking Jasper's and Carlisle's. All three of them were sitting unnaturally still. If not for the subtle movement of their eyes, they would have passed for statues.

My behaviour was like a mockery to their calm and motionless presence. I noticed I was tapping my fingers against the table as if I were nervous. Maybe I was, I couldn't tell. Maybe the feeling was so deep-rooted in me that I didn't even pay attention to it anymore.

I forced myself to stay still, dropping my hands to my lap. It was completely silent, then. I was just another statue among others. A statue that had a heartbeat and blood flowing under the skin.

It was the silence that seemed to catch everyone's attention and break the static atmosphere. Jasper drew in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, draping his other arm around Alice. Carlisle stroked his chin in a pondering manner.

"Let's focus on the things that we can influence _now,_" Jasper suggested. "I'm not saying that we should start ignoring Alice's vision or anything, but maybe we should concentrate on issues we can work on rather than trouble ourselves with something that may be solved before long."

Carlisle nodded, turning to look at me. "Agreed."

"Which brings us to why you're here," Jasper said, now looking at me as well.

I took a deep breath, trying to forget my worry and move on. "Right." My gaze roamed from vampire to vampire as I searched for words. "Regardless of how much I've come to know about your world, I feel like my knowledge of it is still more or less shallow. I'd like to know more. None of you had the same advantage before your change, and I'm not going to waste mine."

Carlisle nodded again. "Of course. You can ask us anything. Preparing yourself mentally for this can prove to be worthwhile. Who knows – maybe it even makes it easier for you to control yourself once – or if – you become a vampire."

I caught the small word that revealed to me that he still hoped that I wouldn't have to do this. He didn't cling to the issue, though, and nor did I. I realized he was merely wanting to tell me that I still wasn't under any obligation.

First I wanted to know more about being a newborn – it seemed like the most logical point to start. The three vampires exchanged looks with each other as soon as the question had left my lips. I guessed that I'd chosen to start off with the least pleasant topic of all.

Jasper spoke first. Something about his posture changed as he began to describe his time as a newborn and how he had become one in the first place. As he began to tell me his story, his eyes became remote, nearly listless, almost like he was trying to distance himself from the topic.

He had grown up in Texas, and at nineteen years old in the year of eighteen sixty-three he had been changed by a vampire called Maria. The circumstances in which he had encountered her could have been incidental, but otherwise there had been nothing random about his change. Maria had been creating an army of newborn vampires to reclaim her hunting territory, choosing humans with combat potential and utilizing their skills once they had been transformed. Jasper had been an excellent discovery; as a human, he had been a major in the Confederate Army.

This was yet another thing that was completely new to me; I'd had no idea vampires had disputes about territories, disputes that needed entire armies to be solved. I could only wonder how much havoc they had caused and how many people had died because of it. How many of those people had become immortal? How many of those had served only as a source of nourishment?

I shivered at the thought, and focused to listen to Jasper's low voice again.

On the night of his change, Jasper had been leading a group of refugees from Galveston to Houston, and on his way back, he had encountered three, unfamiliar women. Shivers danced up my spine as he described the encounter to me.

"The night had already fallen," he told with a soft voice. "I assumed those women were left behind from the party I had just escorted to Houston. But no, they weren't stragglers, and they certainly weren't in trouble like I had assumed. It was me who should have feared for my life."

His words conjured up images as he began to describe to me the appearance of the three vampires he had met in the dim light of the moon. Pale skin, angelic features, inhuman beauty...

"I was speechless," Jasper continued. "My instincts told me to run, especially when they began to talk. But I was unable to move. They began to assess me, talking about me as if I weren't even there. They were trying to determine if I was suited for something – at the moment, I didn't know for what. 'You'd better do it, Maria,' one of them, a tall blonde suddenly said. 'If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.'" Jasper gave a quiet scoff. "Even after that, I stayed where I was. I felt like I was glued to where I was standing. Not that I could have outrun them even if I had tried."

"The one called Maria came closer. The two others left, running away so quickly they almost seemed to take flight. I could only stare after them in helpless amazement, so incredibly fast they were." He paused, staring at the wall across the room as if his memories were projected onto it. "The next thing I remember is the pain. There's no way to describe the torture the vampire venom causes as it burns through your veins. For the next few days, nothing else matters, nothing else exists but the pain. The agony is... indescribable." He turned to look at me, the expression on his face shifting from hollow to grave. "And what follows after the transformation is only slightly easier. The pain the thirst causes in unbearable at the beginning. It drives you insane. You're just barely able to realize that you don't belong to yourself anymore – not really. You see, you're controlled by your most primitive instincts instead of reason."

I shook away the tremors his words had caused, swallowing. Jasper gave me a moment to process everything he had said, and then continued his story.

I learned that because Jasper had received the ability to control emotions after becoming a vampire, he was soon put in charge of the other newborns Maria created in order to win back her territories. She had used a lot of time and effort to create an army that would be superior to anyone else's, choosing soldiers in order to ensure that her army would consist of as strong and skillful vampires as possible. With Jasper's gift, training them and keeping them in control was easy. Soon the army was more skillful and organized than any other.

"It wasn't a wasted effort," Jasper told me. "We reclaimed her old territory easily. More easily than Maria could believe. Being so successful made her greedy, and before long, she was eyeing other cities. Eventually her territory covered most of Texas and northern Mexico. And after that, it wasn't about conquest anymore – many vampires lost their partners and mates in those battles, and as you know, that is something our kind does not forgive." He frowned. "We always had a dozen newborns ready in case we needed to defend ourselves. And when they passed their year mark, we disposed of them." His frown deepened. "Or to be accurate, it was me who had to do it." Alice shifted slightly next to him. I wondered if they were holding hands under the table.

"I began to lose count of how many years, how many decades, it went on," He continued after a moment of silence. "It didn't come to my mind to leave – I didn't know there was another way to live. Maria had told me that this was the way things were, and I believed." He raised his gaze from the table. "But I was growing sick of the violent life I was forced to live. If it hadn't been for a newborn I developed a friendship with, who knows. I might still be out there."

He told me about a vampire called Peter who had survived his first three years, and against all odds, remained useful. He had been assigned to deal with the other newborns, to watch over them until they had to be replaced.

One day when a group of newborns had outgrown their strength and needed to be disposed of, Peter had been helping Jasper to destroy them. They had taken them aside individually, one by one, but when Jasper had summoned a female vampire, a newborn called Charlotte, something about Peter had changed. Jasper had sensed the shift in his mood – Peter had become angry, even furious – and then he had yelled for the woman to run. After that, he had bolted after her. Jasper admitted he could have pursued them, but he hadn't.

"I felt... averse to destroying him. He had begun to feel like a friend to me," Jasper explained. "Maria was irritated with me for that. But I didn't care. And as it turned out, letting Peter go made a whole lot of difference in the end."

"How so?" I asked.

"He returned five years later," he answered. "And he told me about his new life with Charlotte. About a life without wars or fighting or that endless chaos I had to endure every day and every minute... It seemed too good to be true. But I was convinced. I wanted to believe that whatever awaited me out there, it had to be better than my violent everyday life. And so I left. And I never looked back."

"Did you meet Alice soon after that?"

He glanced at the petite vampire next to him. The gold of his eyes seemed to melt. "It took a few years until I found her. Or until _she_ found _me_. Anyway, it wasn't a moment too soon. You see, even though I was glad that I got to live a more peaceful life with Peter and Charlotte, I eventually got depressed. Every time I hunted, I was reminded of the life I had used to live. I could feel the horror of my prey as I killed them, just like I had felt the horror of the thousands of newborns I had destroyed. Peter and Charlotte couldn't understand the reason behind my depression. Their time with Maria had been so short. They hadn't been surrounded by blood and killing and the constant atmosphere of fear and death like I had for decades... " He drew in a quiet breath. "I left them eventually. I still don't know what I tried to seek by going off on my own. I knew I had to keep killing to keep my thirst under control, and I knew that after every hunt, I'd feel even more hopeless, more depressed. And I thought this would go on forever." One corner of his mouth crooked up, then – it was the first time he smiled today. "Until one day..."

Alice nudged him with her elbow, the smile on her lips matching his.

"What happened?" I asked, letting out a breath. It relieved me to know that the heavy part of the story was over.

Alice grinned. "When I woke up from my transformation, the first vision I had was of Jasper. I foresaw that he would become my mate and then we would join Carlisle's family. I just had to wait for Jasper to find me." She nudged him again. "It took him _forever_ to show up. But at least it gave me time to practise being a vegetarian."

"When I met Alice, her visions of future obviously puzzled me," Jasper said. "But I learned to trust her very quickly. Eventually her ability to see the future didn't seem that unnatural to me – after all, I had the ability to manipulate emotions. But when she told me what she'd seen of Carlisle and his family, I could hardly believe her words. It was difficult to imagine that such a way of life was possible."

"Was it hard?" I asked. "I mean, going from an ordinary vampire to a vegetarian?"

"It was," he answered. "It could have been even harder if I had been a newborn at the time. But the thirst is different for everyone – some vampires learn to control it more quickly than others. Take Carlisle and Rosalie, for instance. They are the only ones I know who have never tasted human blood."

I raised my brow. "Rosalie hasn't killed anyone?"

The three vampires exchanged looks with each other.

"Not exactly," Alice disagreed hesitantly. "She has killed people. But not in order to feed on them." I was still confused, but before I could ask anything else, she continued. "What Jasper tried to say is that it's possible to be a vampire and never taste human blood. It's just very hard. Even though I knew from the beginning that there was an option to killing humans, it still took a long time for me to get over the bloodlust. As soon as I had woken up from my transformation and received the vision of Jasper and later of Carlisle's family, I began to practise my future lifestyle. But still... no matter how hard I tried... " She searched for words, her black eyebrows knitting together. Jasper reached out to touch her cheek, and the furrows on her face smoothed out.

"When it comes to this matter, Bella," she continued, "no one is perfect. Being a newborn is like being a captive of your own nature. After the transformation when the thirst is at its worst, it feels like you're just a bystander. You have absolutely no control over yourself. All those things that makes you _you... _it's almost like they go missing. And you won't find them until the worst of the thirst is gone. It's cruel how the nature of our being can make a killer out of anyone. Even the gentlest of persons can turn into a lethal predator within a second."

I mulled over her words in silence. Jasper had said that Carlisle and Rosalie were the only ones who hadn't tasted human blood. It meant that even Esme had killed someone during her vampire life. This knowledge unsettled me surprisingly much – more than I could have expected. Esme was one of the most affectionate persons I had ever met, and to know than even she hadn't been able to stop herself from killing...

I hoped that the shock wasn't visible on my face. I drew in a quiet, calming breath, fixing my eyes upon the table. I didn't want to look any of them in the eye – I didn't want them to know how much the topic was beginning to trouble me.

I heard Carlisle beginning to describe other changes that were related to being a vampire, making me wonder if he changed the subject because he had picked up my unease. I gratefully focused on his words as he explained how vampire physiology differed from human, and what were the most prominent changes in perception.

If I were to become a vampire, my senses would be dramatically enhanced. My sight, my hearing, my sense of smell and touch would be like never before. Those things did make sense – in order to be a deathly predator, you needed to possess extremely accurate senses.

"It feels like a sensory overload at first," Alice warned. "You feel like there's too much to see and hear, and focusing will be very difficult. All those improvements come in handy in hunting or if you have to defend yourself. But for the rest of the time, you just kind of have to try to balance them because you don't necessarily have any need for them. That's one of the reasons why it's so hard to be near humans at the beginning. You see, you are not just able to smell them better, but you also hear the beating of their hearts, and you can feel the warmth emanating from their bodies. All those things wake up the instinct to attack and feed. It's almost like a reflex."

"Imagine walking into a building with hundreds of people inside," Jasper joined in. "Imagine that you could hear the beating of their hearts – every single one of them – as clearly as you hear our voices now."

I blinked. "I can't even imagine what it's like to hear _one _heart beating, let alone hundreds." My confused eyes roamed from vampire to vampire. "I mean, how can you stay _sane_? It must be disturbing even without the thirst. Doesn't all that noise and commotion bother you?"

"Sometimes it does," Jasper admitted. "Especially in the beginning. But eventually you learn to tune it out."

I frowned incredulously. "Tune it out?"

"Imagine you're riding the bus and reading a book, for instance," Alice explained. "There's always some noise around you, but if you focus on reading, all that noise and the voices of the people around you seem to disappear. You become so absorbed in your book that you forget your surroundings. You know?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "I've missed my stop a few times like that."

Carlisle smiled shortly. He gave me an amused glance and linked his fingers on the table. "All this seems like a lot to take in," he said compassionately. "But all of us have survived it and learned to live with the changes this life brings. I can't imagine why you wouldn't."

His words managed to calm me down a bit, but I couldn't help but wonder how many other things there was that made a vampire life even more difficult. All the things I'd heard so far sounded a lot like burdens. Being immortal didn't come without a price.

"The good thing is that you won't ever stumble in the stairs again," Alice grinned suddenly. "Vampires have perfect equilibrium."

"You also become very strong," Jasper added. "And you can run really fast. I mean _really_ fast. Moving becomes effortless. You only have to think of what you want to do and you've already done it. Of course, that's why you have to be careful around humans. It might raise some eyebrows if you move like a hurricane."

I smiled wryly. "That's understandable." Turning to look at Carlisle, I gave him a curious glance. "I was wondering about something," I began. "I've seen you reading a few times. And you're not reading much faster than I am."

Carlisle nodded with a smile. "Vampires can read very fast – it takes only a second or two to read one page, for intance. It is only a habit of mine to read slowly. I find it more... enjoyable. Some things should be savored."

I gave a soft laugh, quietly agreeing with him.

The clock was creeping towards afternoon when I eventually began to feel like my brain couldn't receive any more information. By Jasper's suggestion, we'd been going through the members of the Volturi for the past hour or so. There were a lot of them, I discovered. A lot more than I'd expected. It was a mild expression to say that I was having difficulties to keep up.

"So Marcus is the one who can see the emotional ties between people?" I asked for what felt like the tenth time. "And... Renata is the one who can manipulate those ties? Did I get it right this time?"

"Nope. That's Chelsea," Alice answered. "Renata is Aro's personal bodyguard. She has a shield that allows her to repel attackers and force them to change direction."

I let out a breath. "I need a memo about this."

Jasper and Carlisle gave a soft laughs – they seemed to get my little joke. I'd just learned today that the laws of the vampire world were never written down because that act in itself was an offense. Maybe taking notes of the leaders of the vampire world might fall under the same category.

I rubbed my temples, trying to get rid of the pounding in my head.

"Maybe we should continue some other day," Carlisle suggested. "A few hours isn't enough time to go over everything there is to know. Let's save something for later."

"Okay," I consented, ignoring the small prickle of disappointment. It would have been nice to continue, but I felt like my head was about to explode.

The twilight was about to fall when I said goodbye to Jasper and Alice and stepped outside into the crisp afternoon. I heard Carlisle closing the front door behind me, and then the sound of his footsteps followed me across the white yard. My thoughts were still on the recent conversation and the things I'd learned, and I knew it would take time to process everything I'd heard today.

The drive to Buffalo was silent, but at first I didn't even notice it. Actually, I didn't even realize how lost I was in my thoughts until Carlisle's voice penetrated into my mind. I pulled myself out of the haze I was in, quirking my brow and turning to look at him.

My expression was probably rather distracted because Carlisle repeated his words.

"I said that you are very quiet," he stated softly. "There must be a lot of things on your mind."

"Yeah," I admitted, because there was no point to deny his words. "I was actually thinking about Esme."

My confession made him give me a confused frown. "What about her?"

I searched for words, wondering how to make the words sound right.

"Alice said that you and Rosalie are the only ones in your family who haven't tasted human blood," I began cautiously, knowing that the topic was probably quite delicate. "It means that even Esme has... " I opened and closed my mouth, not sure how to put it.

But it turned out that I didn't need to finish my sentence. Carlisle nodded slowly, his face suddenly sad. "Yes."

I drew in a breath to continue, again finding myself at a loss of words. "And well," I continued. "It's not that I expected it more from the others than her... and it's not that I think that the others are somehow weaker when in comes to this matter, but..." I looked at the road ahead, trying to shape my thoughts into words. "I don't know. Esme is just so kind and gentle and... and tonight I just realized that if even she had to go through that kind of thing, that if she was ..."

_...that if she was able to kill someone, it means that I am as well._

I didn't say the words aloud, but again, I didn't have to.

"Remember what Alice said," Carlisle reminded gently. "Being a newborn is like you're a prisoner of your nature. You're not yourself. That compelling need to find prey and kill doesn't come from _you_."

"It doesn't make it any better. Someone might lose their life because of it. Because of me."

Carlisle's expression was solemn. I knew he didn't know what to say; he had no argument.

"It just makes me wonder if it's worth it," I continued, biting my lip. "Becoming a vampire, I mean. What if the choice I make condemns someone to death? Is it right right to take that kind of a risk? Am I putting my life above someone else's by making this kind of a decision?"

Carlisle pondered my words in silence for a while. It wasn't until he turned the car to the alley that led to my apartment when he spoke again.

"I understand what you mean," he answered with a soft voice. "And I can see why this troubles you. But it's impossible to weigh every decision you make and try to predict the outcome. Even Alice is struggling with that, and after all, she has her gift."

I looked away from his face as he stopped the car, wondering if I was brave enough to ask the next question. I didn't know for sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"Are you saying," I began, "that you've already kind of accepted the possibility that I might kill someone as a vampire?"

Carlisle sighed quietly. It wasn't an irritated sigh. It was almost resigned. Tired. He reached to cut the engine, and finally turned to look at me.

"Of course it torments me to think that you might have to go through something like that," he admitted quietly. "I don't take human life lightly. I've seen how these things are still affecting the other members of my family. Whenever one of them has... slipped..." His words tailed away as he stared at the windshield. The golden porch light of my apartment reflected from his eyes.

"It must haunt them for the rest of their lives," I mused quietly.

"But like Jasper said," Carlisle reminded me, his voice losing the grim tone and becoming calm and composed like usually, "everyone is different. Everyone has their own challenges. Becoming a vampire doesn't mean that you're going to kill someone. Some newborns handle the thirst better than the others. Rosalie is a good example of that."

"And you," I murmured, knowing he was too modest to say it himself.

I could easily imagine the calming smile he now had on his face even though I wasn't looking at him. "As you can see, there are exceptions to every rule." I heard the door on his side opening and closing, and only a second later the passenger door on my right clicked open. Cold air brushed my knees, and I got out of the car with a sigh.

"I guess I'm just worried about it, that's all," I admitted as we headed towards the front door. "I mean, I hadn't even thought about this stuff until today. Sometimes it's harder to see the bigger picture."

"It's understanable that you're concerned about this," Carlisle admitted. "And I'd be surprised if you weren't thinking about this at all. But you shouldn't only focus on things that could go wrong. Especially when there's a good chance that nothing goes wrong."

"Yeah, I guess," I consented with a sigh, digging out my keys and unlocking the door.

Once inside, I hung my coat on the back of a chair. Involuntarily, my eyes drifted over to the pictures on the table across the room. The wedding picture of Charlie and Sue seemed to jump at me, almost as if to call my attention to it. I suddenly felt dizzying relief for knowing that Charlie had Sue to take care of him.

I realized that Carlisle's gaze had followed mine. His eyes were locked on the picture I had framed just a couple of days ago.

"Charlie got married a few of weeks ago," I explained, sauntering towards the table and taking the picture in my hand. "In secret, if I may add. Can you believe it?"

Carlisle smiled at me from across the room. "Alice told me," he admitted with a smile. "Keeping secrets is not her strongest side, as you know."

I gave a quiet laugh, shaking my head. "Why do I get the feeling that I was the _last_ to know about my own father getting married?"

He joined in my amusement. "It is possible."

I searched his face carefully. "Speaking of weddings," I began. "Alice told me that Esme and Miguel are getting married, too."

I studied his expression as he took off his coat, folding it neatly over a chair.

"That is true," he answered, nodding with a soft smile. "They gave me the news when I visited them. It's wonderful." His expression told me that he was being honest. I had expected no less from him, though I still kept wondering if it was strange for him to see Esme marrying another man.

"It is," I agreed. "Alice told me they're going to have the wedding at your house."

He nodded and gave a quiet laugh. "She's probably taken down a wall or two by the time I get back."

I smiled. "Well, maybe she won't go too overboard. But then again, it is a wedding. I think you should be prepared for anything."

Giving another quiet laugh, he nodded. Almost pensively, he glanced at the picture in my hands. Then his eyes drifted over to the table next to me. His soft smile faltered slightly; the expression on his face became observant.

I turned away and faced the table, knowing what had caught his interest. Knowing what had made his smile disappear. Placing the picture of Sue and Charlie back on the table, I suddenly wished that I had turned the rest of the picture frames back up before leaving with Alice this morning.

I more felt than heard Carlisle coming to stand next to me. As I began to flip the pictures back up one by one, I could sense his golden, observant eyes following my every movement, taking in every little change in my expression. And I was afraid that he would see – that he would find out. That he would discover the sorrow, the fear, the pain of saying goodbye and how all those things were slowly tearing me apart.

As I was about to reach out to take the last picture that was turned down, I could no longer avoid his searching eyes.

"I was cleaning this morning," I explained, not knowing why I felt the need to lie. "I didn't get the chance to finish because Alice came to pick me up. I've been so busy during these past weeks that I haven't had the time to – "

"Bella," he cut me off gently. My words died away.

Sighing, I closed my eyes. "It's nothing," I insisted. "Really. Everything's fine. I'm fine."

Carlisle was very quiet. It was his speechlessness that made me eventually open my eyes and look at him again. Because his silence affected me more than any spoken words could. It made me feel bare under his gaze, like he could see things in me that I hadn't even managed to acknowledge yet.

There was sorrow in his eyes as I met his gaze. Sorrow and concern. "Are you?" he asked very quietly.

I opened my mouth to answer, to convince him. For some reason I felt like I needed to. But suddenly, I realized that tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes. I felt ambushed by them. Because even though the past days had been an emotional rollercoaster, I hadn't cried once. That's how overwhelmed I was by everything – even crying seemed pointless. I'd thought that I was beyond it, that it was impossible that the jumbled mess in my head could find a physical form and come out as something so ordinary and simple as tears.

Carlisle settled a hand on my shoulder; there was distress in his touch. I lifted my hand to cover my eyes, both embarrassed and confused that I suddenly found myself on the verge of breaking down.

I wasn't sure what exactly happened next – I didn't know if it was him or me who moved – but somehow, someway, I suddenly found myself wrapped in a strong but gentle embrace.

As his arms came around me, pulling me close to him, I felt like a knot was untangling itself somewhere inside me, a knot that had grown tighter and tighter every day and threatened to deprive me of air. I had kept on ignoring it because I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it in the first place. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against Carlisle's shoulder, and for the first time in a long while I felt like I was able to breathe freely. More tears escaped; I could feel them running down my cheeks, but this time I made no attempt to hide them. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to even out my breaths and find the peace I'd lost. Or had that peace even existed? Could you regain something you may not have even had in the first place?

Carlisle didn't say anything. I felt his cool, calm breaths brushing against the top of my head, and for a moment, I let his inhales and exhales mark the passing of time.

It went on very peacefully. It was strange – time usually had a tendency to fly by quickly. But I guess if you weren't measuring it by seconds, minutes or the ticking of the clock, it could actually begin to linger.

In that restful silence, with burning tears in my eyes and Carlisle's cool arms around my frame, I idly realized that there was something familiar about it, about the feel of his strong embrace. It was like a distant memory that was slowly fading away, refusing to stay no matter how hard I pursued it. But then, all of a sudden, it hit me. Images began to rise to my mind in a constant, surreal haze. Images of the blue moonlight and the waves crashing against the shore... Of the whispered words and the cool, gentle embrace...

I opened my eyes slowly, and the images were gone. If time lingered, dreams didn't. They belonged to another world, to another moment. Deep down, I felt saddened by it.

Carlisle's chest rose and fell as he gave a deep sigh. If there was a distinct sound that existed only for sorrow... then his sigh was a perfect embodiment of that feeling.

"Bella," he began, his voice quiet and soft. Another cool breath against my scalp. And then, a light pressure as he rested his chin upon the top of my head.

"Carlisle, I know what you're going to say," I sighed, my voice almost resigned. The remnants of my tears were slowly drying up on the skin of my cheeks, vanishing as if they had never even existed. I began to pull away slowly, trying to ignore the reluctance in my movements. The seconds were ticking away again, the moment of endless peace slowly fading away. Carlisle felt the shift in my posture, slowly loosening the hold of his arms around me. I almost expected him to take a step back to regain his personal space, but he didn't. He kept his hands on my elbows after releasing me, giving me a long, concerned look.

"Even so," he continued with that same, soft voice, "I want to remind you once more that there is no hurry. Remember that changing you should be our last resort, not our first."

I sighed again. "What should be our first, then?" I asked wearily, even though I already knew the answer.

There was sorrow in his eyes; tonight, they were the color of dark honey. He watched me in silence for a few seconds, eventually turning his head to gaze at the group of pictures on the table.

He looked at them like it was _him_ who had to give up all those people. Like it was him who was saying silent goodbyes and wondering if there was anything left of his heart after he was done. Knowing his compassionate nature, I thought I should have expected it. But for some reason, his ability to feel empathy still had a tendency to astonish me.

He lowered his eyes to the table before closing them momentarily. Then he looked at me again, considering me for a minute. "We should be rational and not act in haste," he answered calmly. "And we should take one day at the time and see what the Volturi will decide. Alice will know once they make up their mind about coming here." He paused, tightening his hold of my elbows in a reassuring manner. "And remember that nothing is set in stone. Who is to say that there's no other way to solve this? And if there is, we shouldn't make hurried decisions and do something that cannot be undone. I do not want you to have to give up your life and your parents. You shouldn't have to lose them."

I lifted my eyes to meet his. While he had been talking, my focus had wandered to the pictures again.

"I shouldn't have to lose you, either," I stated. Suddenly I was afraid of just that – losing them in one way or another. Losing _him_.

His eyes grew very soft. He lifted his hand to touch my cheek, his cool fingertips ghosting over my warm skin. At his touch, my heart took off into a frantic beat. "You won't," he said quietly.

"You can't promise me that." I held his gaze, as if by looking at him, I could force him to understand the chaos that raged inside my mind.

"I can promise you this," he whispered. "I will do everything I can to make sure this ends well."

His touch left my skin tingling as he drew his hand away. I felt like I was reeling, like someone had taken the floor out from under me. "I know that," I answered with a hushed voice.

Carlisle's eyes turned to the pictures once more. Again, he looked like his heart was grieving on my behalf. I followed his gaze, even though a part of me resisted. It was the same part that had turned the picture frames down a few days ago. The part that refused to say goodbye.

"You know," I heard myself saying even though I hadn't made a conscious decision to speak. "Edward once said to me that human memory is like a sieve. That time heals all the wounds for our kind." I paused, staring at the picture of my parents on their wedding day. They were so young, so free, so happily unaware of what was to come. "I now know he wasn't entirely wrong about it. And I wonder if..." My words trailed away. I could feel Carlisle's eyes on me as he studied me.

"You wonder if the same applies to you parents," Carlisle finished for me, speaking in the same, hushed tone. "If... if they won't see you again."

I didn't have to answer him. I didn't have to tell him that he had spoken aloud what I had been afraid to say. I remained silent, still staring at the faces that smiled at me from the pictures.

Carlisle drew in a quiet breath, preparing to say something. Reluctantly, I turned my attention to him again. From his expression I saw that he wasn't going to make this easy for me. I hadn't expected him to.

"I'm sure that in time, sorrow and longing will subside," he said gently. "But they will never truly disappear. Grief doesn't have an end. It just changes shape. And I don't believe it for a second that your parents would stop grieving for you. Time can heal wounds, but not all of them. Some wounds are just too deep to be healed."

I closed my eyes. If this was so hard for me, I knew it would be a thousand times worse for Charlie and Renée. They were the ones who would have to live in suspense, wondering what had happened to me and whether or not I was alive. At least I knew they were alright. I'd have to give them up, but I knew they were alright. They wouldn't have that same luxury.

"What do I do?" I heard myself asking, not knowing if I was talking to myself or him.

I felt Carlisle's hand settling on my shoulder. "You take one day at the time," he said calmly, repeating his earlier words. "And you don't make any decisions until you really have to."

I nodded, bowing my head so he wouldn't see my face.

I didn't tell him what I already knew in my heart of hearts. I didn't tell him that even now, I was taking one day at the time, one hour at the time, one second at the time. I didn't tell him that I already had made my decision, and I didn't tell him that I was past the point of turning back.

I didn't tell him any of those things, but as I felt his hand slipping from my shoulder and grasping my fingers, I had a feeling that maybe he already knew.

* * *

**AN**: I owe a huge apology to everyone who's been waiting for an update. This is probably the longest I've gone without posting a new chapter and longest I've gone without writing, and I hope no one hasn't given up on me so far. The thing is that during this fall, there was a long period of time that I didn't feel like writing at all. A few weeks back, I was well over half way done with this chapter and actually on a good roll when life came in the way. One day I had to make the hardest decision ever and ask our vet to put my 15 year old cat to sleep. I'm an animal lover to the extreme and I grew up with this cat so it's needless to say that making that decision broke my heart. The good thing is that he lived a full life and didn't get unwell until the very last days. He fell asleep peacefully at home, surrounded by the people who loved him. I still miss my longest companion, and always will. He left everlasting paw prints on my heart.

When Jasper tells Bella his story, there are a lot of quotes and references to the book _Eclipse. _Chapter 13, "_Newborn", _is the source of information when it comes to Jasper and his past. The following quotes are from that very same chapter.

_"You'd better do it, Maria, if he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them."  
_

_"I felt... averse to destroying him."_

_"Maria was irritated with me for that."_

I also snuck in a quote from _Breaking Dawn _when Bella and Carlisle are having a conversation after getting back from Ithaca._ "Everyone is different. Everyone has their own challenges."_

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always I'm more than eager to hear your opinion. I'll promise to make an effort to try to get the next chapter done as soon as possible!


	17. Of Losing and Gaining

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

_**Pain doesn't tell you when you ought to stop. **_

_**Pain is the little voice in your head that tries to hold you back **_

_**because it knows if you continue, you will change. **_

_**Don't let it stop you from being who you can be. **_

_**Exhaustion tells you when you ought to stop. **_

_**You only reach your limit when you can go no further.**_

\- Unknown -

* * *

**Of Losing and Gaining**

Standing by the dark window of my old room in Forks, I stared at the faint reflection of my own face. My fingers fumbled idly with the coarse fabric of the curtains. They were the same yellowed lace curtains I remembered from my childhood visits and from my years in high school. For a moment, I was almost tempted to smile. It was strange that so many other things had changed and been worn away by the long years, but this simple little detail had remained.

Of course it wasn't the only thing that had stayed the same in the room. The floor was the same wooden floor, the color of the walls was the same shade of pale blue. But the old rocking chair had disappeared from the corner of the room; so had the pine dresser and my old desk. Maybe Sue had moved them into the bedroom she now shared with Charlie.

I didn't dwell on those little changes. They were easy to accept, after all. This room hadn't been mine in a long time.

I still found it a little hard to believe that I was actually standing there, surrounded by the familiar walls. That I was back in the same place that had once been my home. And it was strange how at the same time it still felt like one, like home, and yet it didn't.

The feeling had accompanied me ever since I'd arrived at Charlie's doorstep two days ago. I'd felt warm, peaceful, happy even. And at the same time, I'd felt like I was already leaving, like the welcome hugs were really farewell hugs. Maybe they had been.

From now on, every embrace I gave was a goodbye.

Sighing, I closed my eyes briefly to get my emotions under control. Tears were something I couldn't afford tonight. For the millionth time that weekend, I began to second-guess the wisdom of my sudden decision to come here.

Since the Volturi were the reason behind Alice's vision, I no longer had to worry about accidentally leading some unknown, dangerous, bloodthirsty vampire to my parents. And because the Volturi didn't pose a threat to them, I didn't have to be afraid for their safety. Therefore nothing was really stopping me from seeing them again. Be as it may, I had quietly decided that I wouldn't travel to see either of them during the indeterminable amount of time I had left as a human. I had convinced myself that a clean break would better. For me, and for them.

This was what I had been telling myself over and over again. Maybe I had even believed my own words for a while. But on Friday night when I had come home from work, I had suddenly picked up the phone and before even knowing it, I had booked a last-minute flight to Seattle. Then I had made a quick phone call to Charlie to make sure that it was okay to drop by for an unplanned surprise visit. While I had been packing my overnight bag, I had written a quick note I had later left on the door of the bookstore, saying that the place would be closed for Saturday. If I hadn't been so startled, so overwhelmed by my sudden decision to leave, I would have felt a prick of guilt for keeping the store closed without properly informing about it beforehand.

By the time I had packed and emerged from my bedroom, Alice had been waiting for me at the front door. I wondered if she had been as surprised as I had when she had found out what I was about to do. If so, she had said nothing about it. She had driven me to the airport, not once questioning my sudden, unexpected whim to leave for Forks. She had accompanied me on the flight to Seattle, promising to wait for me there when I returned. She stayed behind while I had continued on a smaller plane to Port Angeles.

A few hours later, just before midnight, a cab had dropped me off at Charlie's house.

I still didn't know what had possessed me, what had made me sway in my decision not to see him. I'd just felt like I needed to hear his voice, and talking to him on the phone hadn't felt like enough. And I had needed to know that he was happy – I had needed to see it with my own eyes.

And now that I had, I felt slightly better. Calmer. Even though I knew it wouldn't last long, knew that the upcoming moment would shatter the meager calm I possessed.

Sighing, I turned away from the window and walked to my old bed, closing the zipper of my overnight bag. I glanced around once more to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, and then I slung the bag over my shoulder. It felt heavier than when I had gotten here two days ago.

I felt heavier, too. Older.

There were footsteps on the stairs, not light and fast like Sue's, but slow and sturdy. There was almost something shy about the sound of them as they neared the room, hesitating before coming closer. The floorboards vibrated under my feet.

A moment of silence, then the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Missed this place?"

Taking in the sight of the familiar walls one more time, I turned around and smiled. Against all odds, I had done a lot of it during these past two days. I had kept a smile on my face, even though my heart had writhed in agony. But that agony hadn't made the smile any less genuine – on the contrary. Feeling hollow pain and some strange, restful peace at the same time seemed almost rational. Almost.

"I did," I answered. "I _do_. I don't think I'll ever stop missing this house."

Charlie's smile was pleased. He looked both flattered and self-conscious as he gazed at the floor for a short while, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a tan line on his wrist from his watch – he and Sue had returned from Hawaii just few days ago.

"Well," he murmured. "This place won't go anywhere. You're welcome back anytime, as you know. This room will always be waiting for you."

Instead of answering, I crossed the short distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. My facade almost shattered as Charlie gave a soft, surprised laugh and patted my back in a calming manner.

"You could stay for one more day," he murmured into my hair. "What's the hurry?"

I was tempted to consent, to delay the inevitable. How easy it would have been to say yes. Just one more day. Just one more hour. Just one more moment. Just one more anything.

"Sorry," I said against his shoulder. "I have some catching up to do with work because I took Saturday off." Somehow, I was still smiling. I didn't know what kept that smile on my lips, where I got the strength to stand there instead of falling to the ground in shatters. That hollow ache that always accompanied the smile grew sharper, almost overcoming everything else.

"Right," Charlie mumbled with a gruff voice. "You're a busy woman these days. Sometimes it's hard to remember that." He gave my back a gentle pat. "How's the business, by the way?"

I gave a soft laugh against his shoulder, pulling back from his embrace. "Well, I wouldn't call it a business just yet. I'm barely breaking even."

His query made me remember that the bookstore was yet another thing I'd have to leave behind before long. I hadn't really even gotten around to think about the whole thing very much. I knew I should probably sell the store or find some other, sensible solution, but a part of me didn't want to even think about it just yet.

"Will you manage?" I heard Charlie asking. Apparently he had misread the grim expression on my face. "I could always help you out if you have problems with money. It can't be too easy to run a business in times like these."

I shook my head, smiling. "I appreaciate it, but the situation is not that bad. I'm doing a lot better than at the beginning. And besides, you shouldn't have to help me out in any case. The bookstore was always my crazy little endeavor. It should stay that way. I was the one who agreed to take the risk when I bought the place, so... My risk, my problem."

Charlie's expression was something between worry and pride. "Well, I understand that. And even more than that – I appreaciate that you take responsibility for your own decisions. You always have, and I'm proud of you. But remember that there's nothing wrong with accepting help when you need it. So if it comes to that – "

" – then I'm ready to do what it takes," I finished for him, touched by his confession. Of course I knew Charlie was proud of me and what I had accomplished, even though I had always known that he had been more or less against my plan to buy the bookstore. But hearing him say that he was proud of me despite everything... it felt nice. Important. "And it's not like I don't have any options," I continued, deciding that I'd better lay some groundwork now if I sooner or later had to give up the bookstore. After becoming a vampire, working there was off limits, whether I liked it or not. "I could always get a business partner or apply for a loan. And in a worst-case scenario, I'll just have to sell the place and find something else to do."

Charlie narrowed his eyes, apparently confused about my carefree stance towards the issue. Of course he didn't know that I wasn't at all carefree about it, and I knew I had to keep it that way.

I cleared my throat, wrapping my arms around myself. "Charlie?" I asked on a whim.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" I searched his eyes, the lines on his face. They had come from living, those lines. They made him wiser me – they made him possess answers to questions that I didn't even know how to ask.

"Anything," he promised, the expression on his face becoming characteristically cautious, almost suspicious. He always looked like that when he was caught off guard by something.

I snorted softly at his expression, searching for words. Suddenly I wasn't sure what exactly I had wanted to ask – how to put my thoughts of confusion to rational words.

"Have you ever – " I wetted my lips, trying to find my train of thought. "If you now look back, is there anything you'd change? Anything you'd do differently?"

Charlie frowned, so surprised by my question that he didn't even wonder why I was asking it.

"I don't know," he answered after a while. "Maybe I could do some things differently. But if those things had an effect on how everything is _now_..." He trailed off momentarily, his frown deepening. "I don't know," he said again. "Maybe there is nothing that I would change, after all. I like the way things have turned out." He gave me an observant glance, quirking his brow and apparently wondering if he had answered my question.

I drew in a breath. "So... do you believe that things happen for a reason?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe," he admitted hesitantly. "At least some things do. It would be hard to believe that everything that happens in life is random or somehow accidental. If you're asking me if I believe in fate..." He now gave me a glance that was almost reproachful – deep and profound conversations like this made him uncomfortable. "I don't know. Even if there is such a thing as fate... it still doesn't mean that we don't have the freedom to choose, to make our own decisions. You know?"

I nodded, idly adjusting the bag on my shoulder. "And what if... some choices turn out to be wrong?"

Charlie shrugged again, typically not bothering to brood on it too much. "Then they are wrong. But sometimes we just have to make them anyway."

"Have you ever had to make a choice that you knew was right... but you also knew it would hurt someone?"

Charlie's smile was sad. "Bella, I'm a cop. I make those choices all the time. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. Even with the risk of hurting someone's feelings."

I nodded again, knowing it wasn't completely fair to draw a parallel between my situation and his. But at the same time, I knew his words weren't less valid even if I applied them to my own circumstances. If anything, his words gave me more courage.

They also gave me more sorrow.

All of a sudden, Charlie continued. It surprised me – I hadn't expected him to say anything else about this matter.

"There are times when every possible decision is both right and wrong," he mused, his voice suddenly flat. "Take your mother and me, for instance."

I held my breath – Charlie rarely talked about the time he had shared with Renée.

"When you were just a baby, and your mother wanted me to leave this town with the two of you – God, she hated this place, you have no idea... As much as I wanted to follow her and make her happy, I simply couldn't. Both of my parents had taken a bad turn in their health and I... There was just no way that I could have left them. It destroyed our marriage and I lost my chance to be a proper father to you. That is something I can never undo."

"Charlie," I said, reaching out with my hand to touch his. "You were are father to me. You _are_. And I don't feel like I've missed out on something because of the choice you made."

Charlie crossed his arms across his chest, giving me a look that was almost sulking. "I was absent from your life."

"No, you weren't." I shook my head, slightly regretful that he saw it that way – that he had possibly seen it that way for years. "I got to visit you during summers. And I know that at times I wasn't the most eager guest you could imagine. But later I've realized how important those times really were. And in the end, this place became my home."

He held my gaze for a moment, and then he cleared his throat and rubbed his neck again – a certain sign that I had gotten through to him.

"Sometimes you're choiceless in some matters," I murmured, more to myself than him. "But like you said, you just have to do what you have to do."

Charlie seemed to shake himself from his thoughts, and then he gave me a glance, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Where is this coming from?" he asked, sounding more curious than confused. "Is everything alright?"

I gave him a rueful smile. "Yeah," I reassured. "Of course. I guess I'm just thinking too much, that's all."

He barked a laugh. "Well, you haven't changed. And I hope you never will."

I swallowed.

Sue's voice called out from downstairs; my cab had arrived.

"So," Charlie said and slammed his hands together, his demeanor going from reflective to exaggeratedly energetic. It was almost as if he was afraid that our touchy-feely discussion would make him somehow softer and less of a man. It made me chuckle – if I hadn't changed in some areas, neither had Charlie.

He stepped closer to give me a quick, one-armed hug and dropped a kiss on my temple. Then he reached out for the bag on my shoulder, wordlessly insisting on carrying it. It wasn't even that heavy, but I consented, knowing that fathers should be granted certain rights. And it was those simple, little things they did that showed how much they cared.

Shifting the bag on his shoulder, he looked at me and asked, "Ready?"

Sighing quietly, I nodded.

_I'm ready, _I told myself. _I have to be._

Waiting until Charlie turned around, I then followed him out of the room and down the stairs. Another embrace awaited me there; another goodbye. Sue's long, silky black hair brushed against my cheek as she wrapped her arms around me. I didn't tell her to take care of Charlie – I knew that she would.

Taking my bag from Charlie, I turned to the door and glanced over my shoulder one more time. Another smile; another pang of agony in my heart. In a moment's weakness I thought, _pleaded,_ for one more day, for one more moment. Just for one more anything.

Then I turned to look ahead, facing the darkness of the February night. The black sky above me wept, shedding cool raindrops upon my face. Without looking back, I got inside the cab, finding myself stalling before closing the door. As painful as it was, twisting the knife, sometimes you just had to do it.

If only but for one more moment.

* * *

I was drifting somewhere between wakefulness and dreams, sinking deeper and deeper into the sea of slumber. It was peaceful there; I wanted to stay. It was restless on the surface, and the waves were so untamed, so turbulent. They'd pull me under anyway. So what was the point to fight against them?

Just when I was about to sink into the abyss, to be enveloped by the heaviness of sleep, something began to drag me up, back towards the surface; towards the storm. Facing the waves seemed too hard, too demanding, and I wanted to resist. But I was powerless against the pull, against the current, and I let it take me with it.

Through the thin veil of sleep, there was a voice fading in and out, in and out, like a candle flame about to die. I could feel myself skimming along just below the surface, safe from the storm but not from the waves.

"... will be fine. She's just a little jet lagged. And it's been hard two days for her..."

The high sing-song voice trailed away. My limbs were like lead, begging for rest and peace, and for a moment I succumbed. I could feel myself sinking again, but another voice, lower and smoother this time, pierced through the surface. The current was insistent again; it brought me closer to the world, drawing me in like gravity.

"... cannot help but worry if she's under too much pressure. It's all happening so fast. I am not certain if this is the right..."

"... will be fine, Carlisle. She just needs some time."

I slowly began to come aware of my surroundings, of the quiet, whispering voices. They were coming from somewhere close to me, but they kept drifting away as the haze of sleep hovered over me like a blanket, pulling me under over and over again.

I struggled to remember where I was and how I had gotten there.

Another whisper; another tide that lifted me back to the surface.

"How was she on the way back?" There was a moment of silence, the sound of clothes rustling as if someone was moving around. "Did she say anything?"

"Not much. She seemed... tired. Lost."

The words triggered a memory. It was slightly blurred, distant, as if it had happened several years ago. I remembered the mayhem of the airport, how I had stood at the baggage claim area until I had realized that I had no other luggage besides the small overnight bag that had been hanging on my shoulder. Then a hand had touched my arm – a cool, pale hand. Alice had been waiting for me in Seattle like she had promised.

Other things, small things, began to come back to me. I vaguely remembered something about the cab drive from Forks to Port Angeles, how the driver had tried to start a conversation but eventually he had given up. The next few hours were wrapped in a hazy fog of loud voices and faceless people. I remembered the smell of rain, the smell of Forks, and how it had clung to my clothes. I remembered the hot tears that had sprung from my eyes and fallen down my cheeks. I remembered how Alice had guided me through the chaos of people, and how I had felt slightly out of my body, like I hadn't really been there.

I was having a similar feeling now as my mind and body were trying to get rid of the heaviness of sleep. Something kept resisting; some part of me refused to wake up.

I realized I couldn't recall much of the five-hour flight from Seattle to Buffalo. My last memory, before the drifting, before the heaviness of sleep, was of the sight of my dark apartment. I remembered being so tired that the bedroom had seemed to be too far away, and so I had curled up on the couch of the living room.

I suppose that's where I still was. That explained the awkward angle of my neck, the stiffness of my shoulders. The canvas of the couch had left imprints on my cheek; I could feel them tingling.

"... should find another way to approach this matter," the low, smooth voice spoke again, very quietly. The tone was deliberative and slightly plaintive. "... doesn't feel right to force her to do this, to force her give up everything that's important to her. Perhaps she could be able to see her parents even after the change. There's no way to say for sure how long the newborn stage will last for her. It might be only a few months in a best-case scenario. There might be a safe way for her to keep them in her life, at least for a while."

"For a while," the earlier sing-song voice agreed quietly. "But she can only delay it for so long. A few years, at most. Eventually her parents will notice that she doesn't age. And what about the transformation, how it affects her appearance? She'll look different, she'll sound different... I don't know, Carlisle. It's too risky. The changes in her are bound to raise questions."

"It also raises questions if she disappears without a trace."

Alice sighed. "Well, then she won't just disappear without a trace. We'll make it look like there was an accident. We'll make sure that the right questions are being asked and answered." She paused. "My point is that she can't avoid it forever. She's going to have to say goodbye at some point. And she _knows_ that." There was a pause. "I know you don't want her to go through something like that," she added, her voice gentle. "I know how much the very idea bothers you. I know it because it bothers me, too. I mean, if it were me.. If I had to give you up, or Esme, or anyone else of our family..." Her voice trailed off for a while.

"Be as it may," she continued eventually, her tone matter-of-fact again. "I don't think she's going to change her mind about this, no matter what we say to her. She knows it's not just her life at stake here. It only fuels her decision to be changed. If she believes that our lives are in danger, she'll do anything to keep us out of jeopardy. She won't cling to her own desires and dreams at the expense of our lives. Did you expect any less from her?"

There was a quiet sigh and a moment of silence, and then Carlisle's smooth voice spoke again. "No. Of course not." Another silence, another stream of murmured words. "That's what saddens me the most. She shouldn't have to do this for us. She should have been given the chance to make this decision without having to fear for her own life, and ours. She should have come to the conclusion on her own terms."

"She was given that chance once," Alice reminded quietly. "And we took it from her. We won't do it this time, Carlisle. I know _you_ won't."

Carlisle inhaled deeply, as if about to plunge into cold water. "No," he whispered. "I wouldn't do that to her."

There was another silence, longer this time. A clock was ticking somewhere, telling me that time moved on instead of standing still. The skin of my cheek tingled again, and the muscles of my neck reminded me of themselves with a dull ache. I wondered if sleep paralysis felt something like this. Like you weren't absolutely sure if you existed, if the world around you existed.

"I know you wouldn't," Alice answered with a whisper, as if there hadn't been a long moment of silence between her words and his. "Because she belongs with us, Carlisle. She always did."

It was very quiet again; only the clock kept ticking away. I was somewhere on the borders of sleep and wakefulness again, sinking deeper and deeper, drifting away from the surface. Just when I was about to slip over the line, the current jostled me awake again.

"I know," the smooth voice answered. "She did. She does."

The voice was the last thing I was aware of before the surface disappeared and the darkness engulfed me. As the whispers slowly faded away, I tried to cling to them, as if something irrevesible would happen if I let go. But the darkness was persistent, and eventually I gave in, allowing it to carry me away.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of the alarm clock I didn't remember setting. Groaning, I pushed myself up from the couch and looked around me in the empty living room. Someone had spread a blanket over me, and it pooled down at my feet as I got up to turn off the alarm. There was no sign of Alice or Carlisle, and it made me wonder if the whispered conversation I had heard through my shallow sleep had been just a dream, a figment of my tired mind.

After taking a quick shower and changing my clothes, I tried to make myself eat something, but after realizing I had no appetite, I settled for hot tea. Then I left for the bookstore like any other morning. If nothing else kept me sane, working would. The bookstore seemed to have a calming effect on me, and I found myseld relaxing instantly as I unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

The bell above the door gave a soft tingle as I entered. I tore off the piece of paper I'd left on the door on Friday, throwing it in the garbage. It reminded me of the weekend, of Charlie, and how seeing him had evoked feelings of both desperation and relief. I hadn't even known those two could exist together, but they had.

The day turned out to be a busy one, and I didn't have any time to brood on the things that burdened my mind. I barely had any time to take a short lunch break, let alone sit down for a minute. But I didn't mind the rush. I felt like I was at my best when I had a lot of things to do. I'd always thought that being organized was so easy for me because I had gotten so used to it as a child. Renée had always been so busy with her own stuff, constantly starting out new projects that seemed to get crazier with time, and usually she had been so swept away by those things that the simple, everyday affairs had been completely forgotten by her.

It hadn't really felt like burden to be the one who had made sure that the bills got paid and there was always something in the fridge besides the light bulb. But it never had occurred to me that maybe I had taken charge of those things at such a young age because I had an aptitude for it, for being organized. Back then, it had been a means to get by. But today, it was a way of escape, a temporary place to hide from the past two days. I knew it wasn't wise – avoiding something that bothered you rarely was. But I allowed it for myself, this short moment of respite. I allowed it because I knew that I wouldn't, couldn't, hide forever.

So the steady flow of customers proved to be a welcome distraction. I spent most of the day on my feet, and by the time the hours crept towards late afternoon, I was both exhausted and contented.

The last customer of the day turned out to be a challenge. At first I couldn't find this book she was interested to buy, even though I was almost certain I had a copy of it somewhere. But I refused to give in. For some reason, any excuse to postpone going home was tempting. I even spent a moment rummaging through the stockroom I'd cleaned a couple of weeks ago, wondering if I had seen the book back there, but my search proved to be a disappointment.

Maybe it was my weariness and the minor jet lag I was experiencing, or maybe other things crowded my mind and affected my ability to focus, but eventually I found the book exactly where it should have been – exactly where it probably had been all this time. For some reason I hadn't spotted it at first glance, and I'd already begun to doubt my memory and wonder if there were no copies left, after all.

"Here it is," I announced triumphantly, kneeling beside the bottom shelf in the craft section of the store. I pulled out the thick, heavy book from the shelf, slightly frustrated because I hadn't spotted it earlier and wasted so much time on searching. Luckily the customer didn't seem to be in a hurry.

"_From Mittens To Sweaters: Knitting Patterns For Advanced Knitters,_" I read from the cover, quirking my brow at the woman who was standing next to me and trying to keep her four-year-old daughter under control.

"That's the one," the woman confirmed, pleased that I had found the book she was looking for. "Caitlyn, calm down – it's your turn now. Do you see why I said that patience pays off?"

I smiled widely at the little girl who was dashing around the store and not stopping for a second. When she heard what her mother said, she twirled around and came to me, meeting my gaze without a hint of shyness. She wasn't quiet and timid like some children at her age, but like a bundle of energy about to explode.

I crouched down to be on an eye level with her. "And how may I help you?" I asked formally, smiling at the girl. "Caitlyn, was it?"

The girl nodded her head eagerly, her brown curls bouncing with every nod. "I have a birthday on Thursday," she announced. "I turn five."

I drew in a theatrical breath and exchanged a smile with her mother. "Is that so?"

She nodded again. "My Mom promised me a coloring book. I can choose it today but I won't get it until Thursday."

"I see," I smiled, turning around and pointing her the shelf where the coloring books were. Caitlyn brushed past me and began to explore the books, so thrilled she couldn't stay still.

"You must really like colors," I guessed conversationally just as the bell above the door jingled and someone stepped inside. I couldn't see the door from where I was, though; the shelves hid a direct view and prevented me from seeing who had come in.

"I love colors!" Caitlyn exclaimed, so focused on choosing that she couldn't say anything else.

"She practically sleeps with her crayons," her mother told me, shaking her head with a tender smile on her face. "And when she's awake, she spends most of the time drawing. She could easily forget to do anything else, even eat, if I didn't remind her every now then. And she doesn't even need paper to express her creativity – anything will do. You should have seen our bathtub last week."

I laughed. "Well, luckily she chose the bathtub. Easier to clean."

"True," the woman agreed and gave me a wry grin. "But I can't say the same about our white couch – our _former _white couch."

I grimaced sympathetically. "Ouch. Well, who knows – maybe she's a new Picasso in the making."

"Maybe." Caitlyn's mother chuckled, turning to her daughter when she came to us with a coloring book in her hand.

"This one!" she declared.

"That's a good choice," I praised. "Do you want it wrapped?"

"Yes!"

"Caitlyn," her mother reminded, quirking her brow pointedly.

"Yes, _please_," Caitlyn corrected, stretching the last word.

I walked over to the counter with the book, listening to the girl's babbling with a smile on my face. As the mother payed for the books and I wrapped the girl's present in gift paper, I asked her about her favourite color – it was red – and she asked what mine was with a typical four-year-old's curiosity.

"Well," I answered and tied some red ribbon around the package. "It changes. At the moment I like dark purple."

The little girl frowned. "How can your favourite color just _change_?" she asked, perplexed. Apparently the notion seemed unthinkable to her. It was as if my strange attitude disgraced the very idea of having a favourite color.

I chuckled. "I don't know," I answered, exchanging an amused look with the girl's mother. "Sometimes things just change. Not everything stays the same."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Caitlyn wondered, pursing up her lips.

I glanced up from my task to give her a smile when movement caught my eye. It was only then when I remembered that the bell had jingled a moment ago and someone had come in.

My brown eyes met with gold. Something rippled through me, making my insides shudder, like a heavy curtain of rain had just swept over me. A very warm rain – very gentle. Very pleasant.

I looked away from the eyes of warm gold, finishing up with the ribbon. I put the neatly-wrapped book carefully in a paper bag together with the book the girl's mother had bought.

"No," I answered Caitlyn as I handed the bag to her mother. "It's not always a bad thing. Some changes are good."

"But not all," the girl stated with a child's bluntness.

I gave her a smile, trying to keep it a happy one. "Well, I'd like to believe something good comes from every change, even from those that might seem unwelcome at first."

Frowning, the little girl pondered my words; I found myself hoping that she would carry them with her and possibly even draw comfort from them someday.

Eventually she sighed and glanced at the bag in her mother's hand longingly – apparently she thought that things as complicated as this shouldn't be pondered on too much.

"I wish it were Thursday," I heard her murmuring. Her mother and I laughed.

"You have only three nights to go," I comforted her with a smile. "The time will go by very fast."

When the mother and her small daughter thanked me and turned to leave, I watched after them as they walked across the store, hand in hand. Carlisle, who had stayed beside the shelf that was closest to the entrance, put aside the book he had been studying and hurried to open the door for them. It made me smile; he was ever the gentleman.

The bell gave a jingle as the door slipped closed again. A cool draft passed through the store, making me grab a pile of receipts on the counter before they went flying in all directions. I knelt down to put them in the binder I kept on the shelf under the counter.

When I straightened myself again, Carlisle was still standing close to the door, peering into the darkness outside. I idly wondered if he was watching after the woman and the little girl. There was a curious expression on his face; it was something between a smile and a sad frown. It was almost like he had discovered something important and recognized its significance too late.

Sensing my searching eyes, he eventually turned to me and met my gaze. And then, it was raining again – it was the same warm rain than before. My insides curled up with something that was both familiar and foreign, gentle and powerful.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the feeling, ignore the flames that were suddenly caressing my skin. Lowering my gaze, I circled around the counter with calm steps, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Hi," I greeted him quietly, realizing that I hadn't said anything to him yet. Realizing that it had been days since I'd last seen him. I found myself wondering what he thought of my sudden trip to Forks and how I had suddenly taken off like a frightened bird. Maybe that's how I had felt like last Friday when I had decided to leave – frightened. Afraid that if I didn't spring towards the sky when I had the chance, I might be stuck on the ground forever.

Carlisle came closer, responding to my quiet greeting with a nod. He was searching my face carefully, as if trying to see something that hadn't been there before. Something that the weekend might have brought on. I received an answer to my earlier wondering; my unexpected decision to go and see Charlie had made him worry.

Biting my lip, I untangled my arms from my chest and leaned against the counter, half-sitting on it. Letting out a breath, I met Carlisle's searching gaze squarely.

"I'm sorry about the weekend," I murmured an apology. "I shouldn't have left like I did."

Carlisle shook his head. "You had every right to. There's no reason to apologize. That goes without saying."

"Still, I should have talked about it with you guys first." I straightened a jar of pencils sitting on the counter, avoiding his kind eyes. "I still don't know what came over me. I just felt like – " I drew in a deep breath, searching for words. "I don't know, like if I didn't see Charlie right away, I would lose my chance." I gave a confused laugh and peeked at him. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

Carlisle gave me a sad smile. "I wouldn't say that," he answered quietly. "I completely understand why you wanted to see him. I had been planning on bringing up this subject in any case. I understand that last fall you were reluctant to see your parents and take any risks with their safety because we didn't know much about the situation, but I reckoned that now that we know more..." He trailed off.

_And now that my chances to see them are getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment, I should see them while I still can, _I finished for him. It was true – I couldn't deny it. I knew that any day now, I might suddenly have to disappear. I would become dangerous, different. After the change, my parents wouldn't recognize me as their daughter.

"How was is?" Carlisle asked considerately. "Your visit?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but finding the words was harder than I thought.

"It was... It was a lot of things," I eventually told him. "I'm glad that I decided to go. It felt good to see Charlie, to see that he was happy. That he wasn't alone."

Carlisle nodded, suddenly looking hesitant. He ran a hand over his chin, giving me a cautious glance.

"I'm sure you know that nothing prevents you from seeing your mother as well," he began. "If you wish to see her, I'm sure that we – "

I shook my head before he had even finished. He fell silent, a barely visible frown appearing on his face.

"As much as I would love to see her," I explained, folding my arms across my chest as if I were cold, "I know that can't. I wasn't really planning on seeing Charlie, either – I'd already decided that I wouldn't. Going to Forks was just a sudden, thoughtless whim that I couldn't resist. And Charlie is, well... He's a lot easier to deal with than Renée. He's not that perceptive when it comes to me. But my mom knows me so well – she knows me _too_ well." I paused, taking a deep, quiet breath. Thinking about Renée was suddenly very painful. "She used to be my best friend, you know? And she still is, in a lot of ways. I've always been a little out of sync with everyone, but she's one of those rare people who can get even close to being on the same wavelength with me. And like I said, she's very perceptive, very... insightful."

Carlisle was quiet, pondering my words. "So... you're worried that if you meet her, she will sense that everything is not as it should be?"

I nodded. "If I have to disappear or supposedly die in some orchestrated accident, I don't want her last memory of me to be like that. I don't want her to think back and torment herself with the thought that she could have done something to change things. If she remembers that I was distraught about something the last time she saw me, it'll haunt her for the rest of her life." I looked into Carlisle's ochre eyes – they were sad. "It's better this way. I know it," I added, wanting to convince him – I had already convinced myself a long time ago.

He nodded slowly, and I knew he understood. I hadn't expected anything else from him.

He took two slow steps closer to the counter, stopping in front of me. Wetting his lips quickly, he crossed his arms over his chest, the expression on his face both deliberative and hesitant.

"There was a moment when I considered other ways the situation could be handled," he began cautiously, shooting me a glance that was both wary and hopeful. "I considered if it was possible for you to see your parents even after your change so you could keep them in your life at least for a while longer."

I nodded, remembering his and Alice's conversation that I had heard through my sleep last night.

"If there was a risk-free way for me to keep them in my life after becoming a vampire," I asked him pointedly, considering him carefully, "wouldn't you have made use of it with the other members of your family? Like Emmett or Rosalie?"

"Rosalie's self-control could have possibly allowed it. Her newborn phase was relatively short, and even during that time she mastered her thirst well. But she was changed under... difficult circumstances. And then there was the fact that she never wanted to see her family again – she made it very clear," Carlisle explained, a remote expression coming over his face briefly. "And as for Emmett... He came from a big family. I'm sure that when given the chance, he would have liked to return to tie up some loose ends. He was a hard-working son, and his contribution to his family was significant – and I'm sure he was irreplaceable in more ways than merely providing for his family." He paused. "But his time as a newborn was challenging. It took several years before he could be near humans and not lose control. And even a while more after that."

"So maybe the problem's solved on that part. There's no way to know how crazy I'll be as a newborn. Therefore bothering ourselves with this issue might be a waste of time." I paused, studying Carlisle's expression. It was slightly disappointed, though I could tell he was trying to hide it. "Look, I admit that if needed, I could make up good excuses why I can't visit my parents during the first two or so years," I said, a little more compliantly. "I could tell them that I'm busy, or that I started traveling again. It wouldn't raise any suspicions because I don't see them that often anymore anyway."

"It could buy some time," Carlisle agreed.

"It could," I admitted. "So for argument's sake, let's say that I can get over the thirst within the first few years and I learn to control myself around humans. But there are other problems we can't ignore. I won't look the same, I won't act the same... I won't _be_ the same. And eventually they'd notice that I'm not aging, and there's only so much we can do to fake it. I can't look like a twenty-six-year old forever." I let out a sigh, staring at the floor at my feet. "I'd only be delaying the inevitable," I said, an echo of Alice's words in my own voice. I suddenly found myself glad for the gradual distancing from my parents that had begun several years ago. I could only hope that it would make things even a little easier for them to accept.

The expression on Carlisle's face was somber. This wasn't easy for me, but it seemed that it wasn't very easy for him, either.

"I don't mean to be such a killjoy," I said, half apologetic, and gave a sad, quiet laugh. "I like to think myself as a realist, but I suppose I'm sometimes more inclined to pessimism." Falling silent for a moment, I glanced at the floor. "Or maybe I'm just trying to protect myself from disappointment. It's a little cowardly, I admit."

"It's not cowardly," Carlisle disagreed quietly. "It's very understandable. No one wants to take unnecessary risks, to be disappointed. To endanger something that matters. "

I looked up to see his face, suddenly having a feeling that there was something more to his words. But Carlisle wasn't looking at me; his gaze was on the floor between us, his arms still crossed over his chest.

On an impulse, I reached out my hand to touch his forearm. "Thank you anyway," I said quietly. "Thank you for trying to find a compromise, for trying to make this easier for me. I may not seem that way, but I really appreciate it. This would be a thousand times harder if I didn't have..." I trailed off.

"What?" Carlisle asked quietly, suddenly very curious about what I had been about to say.

"If I didn't have you as my friend," I finished. The word friend seemed way too simple, way too modest to be used in this context. And yet, it was the one thing I could call him and not dance on the edge of something unknown. Something forbidden.

At first Carlisle hesitated, but then he loosened his arms from his chest and took my hand in his own. Warm and cold met; his fingers were like smooth alabaster against my own human skin.

I bit my lip; I could feel the rain nearing again. The gentle, warm rain. It pushed me closer to the edge and made my heart beat with some bizarre, wonderful undertone.

"Bella," he said very quietly, still holding my hand in his own. "There is nothing I would not do to make this even a little easier for you. If there was a way for me to ease this burden, to carry it for you, I would do so without a moment's hesitation."

His eyes were so sincere, his voice so heartfelt, that couldn't help but be deeply touched. I acknowledged his words with a nod, suddenly not at all sure if I could trust my voice. "I know," I managed to answer with a whisper.

Carlisle tightened his hand around mine, holding my gaze. Then he reached out with his free hand to touch my jaw with the tips of his fingers. I suddenly found myself unable to look away from him, away from his intense eyes. They were watching me closely, as if he was trying to memorize every angle and curve of my face.

His gaze began to wander, roaming from my eyes to my cheeks, from my cheeks to the line of my jaw... and as if by accident, his gaze suddenly settled on my lips and stayed there longer than it should have. Longer than it was necessary.

Longer than I could ever expect.

The rain was closer again. I could almost feel it on my skin. And suddenly, it wasn't just a rain. It was a storm, and it made me sway and waver, like I had suddenly lost my balance. It made the heart in my chest beat like thunder. It made me tremble from within, and I was suddenly feeling very restless, very unsteady, but not in an unpleasant way.

Maybe he felt the storm, too. The one that made you quiver on the inside, but stay very still on the outside. That's how he was now. Very still, motionless like a statue, the tips of his fingers still frozen on my jaw, his eyes still fixed on the curve of my mouth.

Then he looked up and into my eyes again. His own ones had taken a darker hue. The change was subtle, but it was there. And it made me wonder if I was the only one swaying and wavering, quivering from within. I hoped, prayed, that I wasn't.

I drew in a quiet breath – I'd forgotten to breathe.

The sound of my inhale seemed to startle him from his immobility. He quickly drew his touch away from me and released my fingers from his grasp. If a moment ago his eyes had been focused only on me, on my face, he was now making an effort to look anywhere but at me. His gaze fell to the floor between us, making it impossible for me to see his expression.

Something was rushing through me, pulsing through my veins with a fierce rapidity, but at first I couldn't recognize the feeling. It resembled confusion, but felt a lot stronger. Sharper. I glanced down at the floor, suddenly afraid that my eyes would give me away. That he could see how his touch had affected me. How his withdrawal had affected me. But there was something else that threatened to give me away, and it wasn't the look in my eyes. It was my heart – it kept fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird.

I took a moment, drawing in another breath, and waited for the storm to recede. It kept lingering around me, as if reluctant to leave. As it slowly ebbed away, it left flushed cheeks and some strange feeling of warmth in its wake.

I heard myself clearing my throat, felt myself straightening my stance, even though I hadn't made a conscious decision to do those things. Carlisle was moving as well – I thought I heard him running a hand through his hair.

I ventured to take a glance at him. He was looking at me again, but his gaze was now guarded, cautious. It was almost as if he was afraid that he had crossed some unspoken, invisible line.

And I had to ask myself: Had he? Was something different than before? Had something changed?

I didn't know.

Maybe he didn't know that, either. And even if he did, he did nothing to show it.

He also did nothing to near that invisible line again. He took a step backwards, a very small step, but for some reason I felt like he might as well have been standing across the room.

The earlier storm I had felt, the storm I had thought he had also felt, still refused to leave me. But the rain that had used to be warm and gentle, grew cooler now, colder; it didn't warm me like it had used to.

I suddenly found it difficult, if not impossible, to look at him. I made a quick excuse to disappear into the small stockroom of the store for a while, telling him something about going through a delivery that had arrived today. I allowed myself a few minutes to hide behind the metal racks, not even bothering to turn on the light. Not even bothering to make noise that would make the fabricated delivery sound even a little more believable.

I leaned my forehead against the cool metal of the storage shelf, breathing in and out, in and out, very slowly. What had just happened? I asked myself. Or what had just _almost_ happened?

The only answer I got was the silence of the dark stockroom and the heavy pounding of my heart. I wondered if I could actually hear the sound of my own heart beating, how it echoed from the walls, or was it just my imagination. But I could feel it, for sure – the demanding throb in my chest was no illusion.

It was then when I was able to fully identify the earlier, sharp feeling that had emerged when Carlisle's eyes had abandoned mine, when the touch of his hand had left my skin. The feeling that still refused to leave me. It was disappointment, plain and bare. And now as I was able to recognize that feeling, to give a name to it, I no longer felt the need to repeat the earlier questions I had asked myself. I didn't have to ask what had just happened between me and him, or what had _almost_ happened.

But instead, I asked: What had I wanted to happen?

The answer I felt simmering somewhere beneath the surface sent a rush of blood to my cheeks. I had to take a deep breath again as the heart in my chest took off, beating violently against my ribcage as if it was trying to break through.

When I eventually emerged from the darkness of the stockroom several minutes later, feigning calmness and composure, Carlisle was standing by the door again. He was eyeing the darkening streets outside, that earlier strange expression on his face again – the expression that was something between a sad smile and a frown.

He turned to me as I was shrugging on my coat and pulling my long hair out of the collar.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked. His tone was polite, friendly. Nothing more, nothing less.

I only nodded. For the second time that hour, I wasn't sure if I could trust my voice.

At first it was quiet as we made our way towards the familiar park by the lake. Eventually we began to talk about this and that, and I felt relief because silence was something I suddenly couldn't stand. But a few minutes into our idle conversation, I couldn't help but notice how absent Carlisle seemed to be. I dared to wonder if he felt that same, strange heaviness as I did – the heaviness that had begun in that moment when my hand had slipped from his grasp and his eyes had left mine.

"What's on your mind?" I asked eventually when he had been unusually quiet for several moments. I didn't know what tempted me to ask that – I didn't know what made me so bold. A part of me was afraid to hear his answer.

Carlisle raised his gaze from the snow-covered pavement, his expression slightly distracted. He stayed silent for another moment, his eyes averting mine.

"That little girl who was in the store earlier," he began, effectively surprising me. The look on his face changed again, a small frown replacing the absent-minded expression. Again he looked slightly chagrined, like he had realized something important too late.

"Yeah?" I prodded when he fell silent again. "What about her?"

He turned to give me a look. It was quick, but all the more observant.

"When she asked you if changes are a bad thing... " He spoke slowly, his eyes studying the pavement ahead of us again. "And when you told her that something good comes from every change... did you really mean what you said? Do you really believe in that?"

I slowed down my pace, not really noticing it myself. Carlisle matched his steps to mine, and I knew he was looking at me now even though I didn't see him. There was a part of me that wanted to check, to see his eyes as they searched my face, but it would have made answering a lot harder.

"What do you think I believe?" I asked instead of giving him a proper response.

I heard him draw in a quiet, deep breath, as if to steady himself. "I believe," he began, the tone of his voice cautious as he averted my eyes, "I believe that at times, you are more troubled by changes than you let on. That even though you accept them, you know it's not always so easy to live with them."

It was my turn to be quiet, to avert his eyes. I wondered if he was right – I wondered if he could see deeper into me than I had even thought. "It doesn't contradict what I said to that little girl."

Carlisle didn't say anything for a while. I ventured to look his way, and as I studied his pondering expression, I realized that if he could see into me, into my heart, I could see into his as well. And I knew there was something more behind his question, behind his pensiveness.

"I came to realize something this afternoon," he began, confirming my hunch. "I was watching you with that child, and... and that was when I truly comprehended what you are about to sacrifice. What you are about to give up."

His words caught me off guard. As I realized what he was getting at, it took a moment until I could summon a response.

"Look," I said softly. "I can only mourn for the loss of things that I have right now – things that exist and matter to me _now_. "

My words made Carlisle turn to me. His eyes were observant again, as if he was trying to see the truth behind my words.

"What about possibilities?" he asked, his tone surprisingly sorrowful. "Things that might matter to you someday? Do you not regret losing them?"

"Well, yeah. I guess I do," I admitted after a while of thought. "And I do acknowledge what I'm about to give away. I do. I know that I'm about to give up my life as I know it, but also the life I could someday have. But I'm not sure if I'm willing to change my mind now because of something I may or may not want in the future." I paused, for a moment trying to recall if I had felt exactly the same way eight years ago when I had been so adamant about becoming a vampire. Then, too, I had been so ready, so willing to sacrifice everything that was dear to me, and all those things that might someday come to matter. It forced me to consider if I had learned anything at all, if I was being as thoughtless and ignorant as I had been eight years ago.

But I knew something was different now – something _felt_ different. I knew that I now acknowledged those things that I had overlooked so easily back then. Instead of ignoring them, I made an effort to deal with them and eventually accept losing them.

"Maybe it makes me short-sighted and naive to feel this way," I continued quietly. "And maybe I will come to regret some decisions I make now. But the point is that it's impossible to know that for sure." I paused for a short moment. "And besides, I believe someone once said that change is the only constant in life. So maybe no one should worry about the possibility of changing their mind and regretting lost chances. Maybe those things are bound to happen anyway, no matter what kind of choices they make. There's always _something_ to regret."

I gave Carlisle a glance, wondering what he thought of my words. His golden eyes were on the pavement ahead of him, the expression on his face still pensive. He remained silent for a while before he turned to meet my gaze.

"Heraclitus," he suddenly stated, his voice quiet. "Heraclitus of Ephesus. He was the one who said that the only constant in life is change."

I quirked my brow, at first surprised by his words, though I didn't know why. Of course Carlisle knew Heraclitus – he was one of the most famous Greek philosophers, after all.

After getting over my surprise, I turned to look at him and gave him a wide smile. "'No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man,'" I quoted.

It took a moment, but eventually Carlisle answered my smile. "'Eternity is a child playing, playing checkers; the kingdom belongs to a child,'" he countered with a quiet voice.

"Hmm." I bit my lip and frowned, noting the expectant look on his face; he was curious about what I would say next. "'Hide our ignorance as we will, an evening of wine soon reveals it.'"

"'Much learning does not teach understanding,'" he responded immediately.

"'A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one,'" I threw back. I smiled again, suddenly shy as I revealed, "That's my favourite quote from him."

Carlisle raised his brow, looking oddly intrigued. "Really?" he asked. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It just is."

A comfortable silence fell between us. We were almost at my apartment by now, and I began to search my pockets for the keys to let us inside. It felt good to leave the chill of the evening outside and welcome the warmth of my small home. I flicked on the lights as I entered, hearing Carlisle closing the door behind us.

As I unbuttoned my coat and was about to shrug it off, cool hands startled me momentarily. I let Carlisle slide the coat off my shoulders, and again I was both flustered and flattered about his gentlemanly ways.

When he had hung both our of coats on the rack by the door and turned to me, I studied his face carefully. His expression had sobered once more, though I could see that it wasn't as grim as it had been before. I now knew the reason behind that seriousness – he had looked exactly like that when he had been watching after the woman and the little girl as they had left the store. The thought brought me back to the earlier topic, making me give him a curious glance. He raised his brow in a questioning manner as he noticed my gaze.

"What made you bring it up?" I asked quietly. "This matter of... lost possibilities as you called it."

A small furrow appeared on his pale brow as he mulled over my inquiry. "I do not know exactly," he answered softly, his tone slightly wistful. "Seeing you interacting with that child... It just made me remember all those things that will always be unattainable in this life. Things that are beyond our reach." He paused for a moment, his golden gaze studying the wall somewhere behind my back. "All these weeks I have worried about you having to lose your family, your parents... But today, it sorrowed me to realize that you will also lose the chance of being a parent yourself."

I fumbled about with the sleeve of my shirt to get more time to figure out something to say. "Can you really see me as mother?" I asked eventually, giving a rueful laugh.

"Yes. I can."

I met Carlisle's gaze, at first too surprised to respond to his confession. "I never have," I admitted. "And I'm not sure if I ever will."

He was silent for several moments. Eventually he folded his arms across his chest, looking at the floor as he took a few slow steps closer to me.

"If that is how you truly feel," he said softly, "then I will respect that. However, Bella, I feel compelled to caution you not to take this matter lightly. You may relate to it this way now, but... years, perhaps decades later, you might come to feel entirely differently about it." A shadow passed in his eyes. "I've witnessed how this has affected Esme and Rosalie, how it torments them to know that they are incapable to have children. Even though they are vampires, their need to nurture, to be a mother, has never disappeared. And I do not think it ever will. At times, I believe they would trade anything to be human. Eternity is a long time to suffer from an unfulfilled yearning like that."

I nodded mutely, wanting him to know that I was taking his words seriously. It didn't surprise me that especially Esme would still crave a child of her own – I remembered her telling me about the baby she had lost when she'd still been human. And come to think of it, it wasn't that strange to find out that Rosalie dreamed about that very same thing. I was sure there were a lot things, many other traits, that I hadn't learned about her during my time on Forks.

"I can understand why it matters to them," I mused, running my hand over the back of the couch as I circled around it and sat down. "And I know it's not just about the era they are from – even though many things have changed socially and otherwise since then, I'm sure the meaning of having children isn't that different."

I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, searching for words as I glanced up at Carlisle."And I can see why it would confuse or even offend someone if I made a choice like this without a second thought. I've never been absolutely opposed to the idea of having children one day, but the thing is that I've never been very passionate about it, either. At least not in the way some people are. Everyone is different when it comes to this matter. Someone might think that my attitude is thoughtless and that I'm disregarding something important here. But for someone else, like me, this is just another choice, another path to to take, and nothing more than that."

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. He walked closer to me with calm steps, sitting down beside me. He rested his elbows on his knees and interlaced his fingers. "It's... very wise of you to see it that way," he said quietly. "And I didn't mean to be condescending and imply that you haven't thought this through. Because you clearly have." He now gave me a glance that was partly amused, partly appreciative. "You seem to be able to rationalize every view, every opinion you have. And you make no excuses for them, but instead stand behind your words and feelings. Not many can do that. Not many possess that kind of inner strength."

I gave him a wry smile, a little taken aback by his unexpected praise. "Isn't that just a nice way to say that I'm stubborn as a mule?"

He laughed quietly – the sound was somehow very disarming. "I would never be so indelicate as to liken you to a mule or any other animal. Or on a second though – to a swan, perhaps. It's not that far-fetched, considering your last name and... other similarities."

Now I was seriously blushing. "Other similarities?" I couldn't help but ask.

Carlisle's smile was almost teasing – there was a glimmer in his eyes I'd never seen before. "Well, swans are known for their elegance and grace. They are also very self-assured and they represent purity and dignity."

"Elegance?" I asked, my cheeks still flushing with bright red heat. "Grace? Now I _know_ you making fun of me."

Carlisle gave another soft laugh. There was amusement in his eyes, but also some odd earnestness as he looked at me. "Of course I am not. I would not dare to say such things to you and not mean them."

His words and smile caused a flutter of butterflies in the pit of my stomach – or who knew, maybe they were swans. But it was his eyes that made my heart fasten its pace, made the rain creep closer again. The gentle, warm rain.

I tore my gaze away from his eyes – it was difficult. There was a part of me that was afraid of that rain, afraid of the consequences of it.

Or maybe it wasn't the consequences I was afraid of. Maybe I feared the possibility of being the only one who was aware of that rain. There was a part of me that didn't want to find out if I was right or wrong about it, if it was an actuality or just a possibility. Until now, I hadn't even been completely aware of that part that I carried within me. The part that was afraid of losing. The part that saw only the risks – the dangers – instead of possibilities and hope.

I knew where that part, that fear, had come from. It was the circumstances, the inevitable, impending series of farewells that had created that fear. After all, I was more aware of the meaning of loss than I had ever been before. But despite that awareness, despite the actuality of the situation, I found myself disliking that fear, be that reasoned or not. In fact, I downright despised it. Because it made me feel confined. It made me feel like I wasn't the person that I really was. Fear had the tendency to do those things. It made you a prisoner of your own mind. It caged you up like a bird. It made you want to hide your heart so you'd never find it again.

_"No one wants to take unnecessary risks, to be disappointed,"_ Carlisle had said less than an hour ago._ "To endanger something that matters_."

As I repeated his earlier words in my mind, examining and exploring them as if trying to find a new angle, I began to wonder if I was the only one having unspoken fears.

The thought made me remember his cool, soft touch on the skin of jaw, how his eyes had explored mine. And then, the sharp feeling of disappointment as he had pulled away. That one, small step he had taken to create a distance between us had felt like a huge leap, but now I wondered if there was something else behind that action, something I hadn't seen before.

Was that why he had pulled away? Because he was uncertain? Because he was afraid, too?

I gave Carlisle a considering look, noticing that he wasn't looking at me. It seemed I wasn't the only one whose mind wasn't on the ongoing conversation anymore. He sensed my searching eyes, but reacted and responded to my gaze slower than usually. His expression was reflective, as if he was making an effort to pull himself from a deep thought.

"What is it?" he asked as he noticed my scrutinizing gaze.

I just shook my head, brushing it off, still too disconcerted by my recent realization to form an answer. I later found myself returning to it, quietly pondering it in my heart.

The evening passed like any other. Carlisle delved into a book he had found from my small library while I went on with my normal routines. I made myself a quick dinner and at the same time tried to find the phone number of the craft supply wholesaler I'd written down last week. The craft section of the store needed to be restocked in a few days, especially because Alice had promised to stop by to pick up some decoration supplies for the wedding. Esme and Miguel were supposed to get married in a few days, and Alice was predictably in full wedding mode. I still had no idea why she had pre-ordered a hundred rolls of white paper string from me, and a part of me didn't even want to know.

I found myself observing Carlisle as I went about with my chores. I noticed he was more quiet than usually, the look in his eyes faraway and almost distant. Was he still thinking about our earlier conversation? Or was there something else weighing his mind?

It pleased me that he still spent so much time at my apartment, even though the situation no longer demanded it. Now that we knew that the Volturi were behind the vision Alice had of me, there was really no reason for the Cullens to watch over me twenty-four hours a day. When the Volturi someday made the decision to come and check up on me, Alice would know about it instantly. Therefore I didn't need a constant bodyguard any longer.

But Carlisle acted like nothing relevant had changed. He hadn't abandoned his habit to accompany me to the bookstore in the mornings, and he still spent most evenings with me at my apartment. The simple, familiar pattern we had developed last fall was still there. It made me wonder if there was something he suspected about Alice's vision, something that kept him on his toes. Maybe it worried him that Alice's vision of me had stayed the same, despite the conclusive decision I had made about becoming a vampire.

Or maybe... Maybe he just liked spending time here. The sudden thought warmed me a lot more than it should have.

He must have sensed my scrutinizing gaze, because after a moment he raised his eyes from the book, giving me a glance. The distant expression on his face disappeared, changing into curiosity as he saw me moving about the apartment, lifting up piles of paper and checking the pockets of my coat.

"Have you lost something?" he asked considerately.

I turned to give him an embarrassed smile, just about to go through my shoulder bag. "A note," I explained. "I had it last week, but I have no idea where I put it."

Carlisle frowned thoughtfully, placing his book on the coffee table. He rose from the armchair, lifting up a pile of fashion magazines Alice had brought a few days ago, revealing one corner of the table. He tore a yellow Post-it note from the wooden surface, holding it out to me.

"This one?" he asked.

I let out a relieved breath. "Yeah." Abandoning my bag, I went to him and took the note. "Thanks." Slightly chagrined that I had wasted so much time, I frowned at the pile of _Vogues _Alice had littered the table with and apparently hid my note in the process. "Damn Alice," I murmured. "Does she believe that if she brings me enough of those silly magazines, I'll suddenly start wearing heels?"

Carlisle gave a soft laugh. "Don't let her get to you. Especially now when the wedding is on the way. I'm afraid she'll double her efforts."

"Great. I can't wait." I walked across the room to the kitchen counter, sticking the note to the electric kettle where I would find it in the morning. "Are you looking forward to it, by the way? The wedding?"

I turned back to Carlisle who was still standing by the coffee table.

"I am," he answered, a tender smile rising to his lips. "Esme and Miguel deserve all the happiness there is to give. They were both born to this life under... unfortunate circumstances. After all those hardships they've both had to endure... Nothing warms my heart more than to see this end well. To see them both happy."

I nodded at his words thoughtfully. When he had mentioned unfortunate circumstances, I wasn't entirely sure what he meant. Of course I knew that Esme's vampire life had begun under distressing conditions. I knew that near the ending of her human life, she had lost her child and in her sorrow tried to kill herself by jumping off a cliff. That explained Carlisle's choice of words, but only partly. I realized I knew nothing about Miguel, except that he had once been living the life of a nomad until the Denalis had encountered him on a hunting trip somewhere in the mountains of Alaska. I also knew he had been struggling to get over his bloodlust, and Carlisle had stayed in Alaska for over two years to help Miguel getting adapted to the life of a vegetarian vampire.

"How about you?" Carlisle queried, pulling me from my thoughts. "Do you look forward to it?"

"Oh." I gave him a grin. "Well, I've never been to a vampire wedding before. So I guess I'm cautiously excited."

He smiled at my answer, for some reason looking slightly relieved. It was almost as if he had expected a different response. I had an inkling about what might be on his mind.

"I am a little nervous about seeing the rest of your family," I confessed, watching his reaction. He confirmed my earlier hunch by giving me a long gaze, the look in his eyes searching.

"I understand if you are nervous," he said, "but I assure you there is no reason to be. I am sure they will be delighted to see you again."

His voice was sincere, banishing any possible uncertainty. But it wasn't insecurity that made me ask the next question – if anything, it was curiosity.

"Do they know about my decision to become a vampire?" I asked.

Carlisle nodded. "They do."

"How do they feel about it?"

"Well, they know what the situation is, and they understand what has brought you to this decision. They obviously welcome you to join us, but they also regret that you're forced to make this kind of a choice in order to protect yourself. And us." A veiled expression passed on his face. It wasn't hard to guess the reason behind it.

"Edward must have thrown a fit when he heard about my decision," I said, studying Carlisle's reaction.

He gave me a sad smile. "All this time he's been trying to proctect you from this very situation. And now that his efforts have proven to be in vain... it makes him worried and frustrated."

I bit my lip. "A while back when you were in Alaska, Alice told me that you and Edward had an argument about this. About your offer to change me."

A shadow passed in Carlisle's eyes. "Edward just wants you to be safe," he explained with a hushed tone. "And it makes him sorrowful to know how much you're about to sacrifice, just as it makes me sorrowful. It was the one thing we did not disagree on."

I wasn't sure how to interpret his words. "You're still on good terms, right? I mean... it makes me sad to think this matter has caused a rift between you and him. I don't want you two fighting because of me."

A strange look passed in his eyes again. It was very quick, though, vanishing faster than it had appeared. "Don't worry about it, Bella," he reassured, giving me a swift smile. "Despite the possible differences in our opinions, Edward and I rarely argue."

It wasn't really that hard to believe. After all, Edward and Carlisle had been friends longer than any of the Cullens. They had been each other's first companions, and it was hard to imagine that anything could make their friendship fall apart.

A strange feeling came over me after a while, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced up at Carlisle, sensing his gaze. He was watching me closely from across the room, his warm golden eyes narrowing slightly. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to hesitate a while longer before letting the words out.

"Are you... nervous about seeing him again?" he queried. "Edward?" His voice was kind, but there was a strange undertone to it, almost as if he was making an effort to sound casual enough.

I began to cross the room with slow steps, maybe to get more time to come up with an answer that would explain my feelings clearly enough.

"A bit, I guess," I admitted eventually. "Or maybe it's not nervousness, not really. I suppose I'm feeling a little, I don't know... uneasy. I'm not sure how to be around him." I took a seat on the couch, turning to look at Carlisle.

A slight frown furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "Things were so different the last time I saw him. So much has changed. And I don't know how it's going to affect everything."

Carlisle looked ruminative. A small frown still creased his brow as he came around the coffee table with slow steps. The couch dipped next to me as he sat down, interlacing his fingers in a contemplative pose. Maybe it was just my imagination, but for a moment it seemed like he was trying to avoid my eyes.

"What do you feel has changed?" he asked with a quiet voice, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes were like a surface of water, calm and still. No ripples, no waves. Nothing to reveal what might be going on underneath.

His cautious approach confused me a little.

"Well, a lot of things," I answered, wondering why he made me say out loud something that was so obvious.

Then I realized that I hadn't really talked about this with him before. Months ago, there had been that conversation in the park a few days after he had come to Buffalo, but otherwise Alice was the only person I had properly spoken to about Edward and how I felt about him these days.

And suddenly I understood why Carlisle seemed to make an effort to handle this topic so carefully, so cautiously. Was he wondering if my feelings for Edward were more than platonic? Did he believe I was still in love with him? And had he been mulling over this all these months? I hoped not.

"I'm sure it'll be strange for Edward as well to see me again," I began to explain, wanting to make myself clear about this matter. "But I hope that we'll get past that eventually. I know how cliché this will sound but... I wish that he and I could someday be friends."

Carlisle tilted his head slightly, almost like he was wondering if he had heard me wrong. "Friends," he repeated.

"Yeah." I watched him carefully, but his expression still gave nothing away. "I realize how weird it must sound. I mean, the last time I saw him, I was in over my head with him. And now, well... " I paused, searching for words. "I'm not saying that I don't care about him at all. I'm not indifferent about him, and I'll never want to be. But I no longer have feelings for him that could be considered romantic in some way. And I wish... Well, I just wish that someday we could get along. On the other hand, I don't know if Edward wants anything to do with me – maybe I'm just an unpleasant blast from the past for him." I gave Carlisle a wry grin.

His expression was oddly masked as he glanced at the hands in his lap. "I'm sure you're nothing of the sort, Bella. Edward cares about you a great deal. And I'm sure he'd never decline your offer for friendship."

His tone was oddly neutral, but no less sincere. I spent a moment to study him, wondering if there was something more behind his words. He still had that veiled expression on his face, and it made me wonder if he knew something about Edward's possible feelings for me, be they platonic or something else. Even Alice seemed to be in the dark when it came to that matter – I had asked her about this several weeks ago.

"You did know how I feel about him, did you?" I asked, deciding to get out the question that had been tormenting me for the past minutes.

Carlisle turned to gaze at me, for some reason meeting my eyes more boldly than during the past several minutes.

"I did wonder," he admitted slowly, "but I could not be sure. And I did not wish to intrude by asking about it."

My lips quirked into a small smile. "Am I really that hard to read?" I asked, half serious, half joking.

He held my gaze for a long while. Longer than I expected. "Sometimes you are," he revealed. "But other times..." He paused, searching for words.

"... I'm an open book?" I offered.

Carlisle gave a soft laugh, smiling for the first time in several moments. "Not an _open_ book," he denied gently. "But perhaps a scripture that will eventually unfold if you are willing to strive to understand it."

I tilted my head, trying to hide my smile, but I was unsuccessful. "Hmm. I take that as a compliment."

He answered my smile. "Please do."

Later that night, when sleep refused to come and my mind began its usual wandering, I found myself mulling over our conversation. I realized that if I wasn't an open book, neither was Carlisle, and if sometimes I was a hard person to read, so was he. It didn't mean, though, that I couldn't read or understand him at all. I remembered the sudden feeling I'd had on our way to my apartment this afternoon, and how I had realized that at times he was able to see into me, into my heart, and I into his.

Reflecting on the evening, I remembered the veiled expression that had come over his face every now and then. There had been something about his eyes that was somehow familiar to me, something I had glimpsed in myself not that long ago.

_"No one wants to take unnecessary risks, to be disappointed,"_ he had said to me hours ago. _"To endanger something that matters."_

Maybe we all sometimes had those thoughts, those fears, those demons that made us see only the risks and dangers, the possibilities of grief and sadness instead of chances to be happy and free. It made me think about the past weekend, and I remembered how I'd been feeling when I'd gone to visit Charlie. How only a few seconds into my arrival, I'd felt like I was already leaving. How the welcome hugs had really felt like farewell hugs.

Until now, I'd thought that those feelings, those fears, were something to be overcome, something to be defeated and destroyed. That if you didn't manage to rid yourself of them, your life wasn't yours. That you'd have to keep on hiding your heart in order to protect it, to keep yourself whole.

But now when I thought about it again, I wondered if those thoughts, those fears, those demons weren't supposed to be defeated after all. Maybe you just had to learn to live with them. It couldn't be easy to coexist with a voice that whispered, _You might lose this person someday. Someday, you will have to say goodbye.  
_

But maybe that was the whole point, the most important thing of all – to have someone who was so dear to you that they were worth the grief. Worth the risk. Loving someone always came with a price. The brightest light cast the darkest shadow. I knew that; knew it all too well. But it wasn't just about that. Love wasn't just about losing and giving up. In fact, it was far from it.

It was the first time during the past few weeks when I realized that the choice I was about to make wouldn't be just about loss and sadness and goodbyes. For the first time, I realized that I wasn't only losing. I was also gaining.

Closing my eyes, I allowed the dreams to take me. But somewhere on the edge of slumber, a voice pulled me back from the depths. It was a memory, a whisper shrouded by sleep. There was nothing vague about it, however, even though I'd been far from awake when I'd first heard it.

_"Because she belongs with us,_ _Carlisle_," the voice said._ "She always did._"

It was silent for a moment, then. For some reason, that silence felt like a quiet acknowledgement.

"_I know_."

The other voice answering was lower, smoother. It made the heart in my chest flutter like a bird, not like a trapped one, but free and unafraid to spread its wings.

_"She did. She does."_

* * *

**_AN: _**_Sorry about the late update. Again. I was supposed to post this chapter before the holidays, but my immune system decided to take a Christmas break and I came down with a horrible fever. I'm much better now since I can look at the computer screen again without gagging and getting a headache, haha :D_

_I know I'm such a tease when it comes to the blossoming romance between Bella and Carlisle, but don't worry: it won't last forever. The teasing, that is. I wanted Bella to become aware of the things that are holding her back, and I also wanted her and Carlisle to have a conversation about Edward so there would be no obscurity there. Edward is obviously the main reason why Carlisle is so prudent around Bella, and I wonder what happens when he eventually jumps in. Now that is going to be interesting._

_A while ago one of the readers pointed out that Bella still seems to be the same, insecure girl she was eight years ago. Maybe it was just a coinsidence that I was just working on a paragraph that dealt with this very issue when I got that review. In a way I can agree with this reader. Even though Bella has changed and matured since the time she lived in Forks, she still has fears and insecurities. We all do; no one is perfect. She's becoming more and more aware of these fears, especially now when she has a painful decision to make. I don't think she's ever been this vulnerable in her entire life, and she knows it. This is one of the best things about writing - the character developement. To see the characters learning things about themselves and becoming aware of their strengths and weaknesses. A few weeks back, a good friend of mine said to me that we never change completely on the inside. We just become better versions of ourselves. He was so right about it.  
_

_By the way, if someone got baby vibes about the conversation Bella and Carlisle had in this chapter and ran away screaming: don't worry. I don't think that's going to happen in this story. Baby-fics are not my area of expertise, let alone human-vampire hybrib baby-fics. _

_It always bothered me how the author of the Twilight Saga never dealt with the issue of Bella having to give up her parents. In Breaking Dawn she got to "keep" Charlie and he was even partly let into the secret. Renée was barely mentioned. I still wonder what kind of excuses Bella makes everytime Renée wants her to visit her in the sunny Florida :D I know there was a lot going on in Breaking Dawn and this issue wasn't that important compared to the rest of the drama. But it always kind of bothered me how little S.M. dwelled on this matter. I always wondered how the Cullens would have dealt with the situation if Bella's self-control hadn't turned out to be so spectacular and if she had been forced to cut her parents our of her life completely._

_"I suddenly found myself glad for the gradual distancing from my parents that had begun several years ago. I could only hope that it would make things even a little easier for them to accept." This line is borrowed from Breaking Dawn, but I changed a few words so the line would fit the story._

_The quotations Bella and Carlisle are throwing at each other are from Heraclitus of Ephesus:_

_"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man." _

_"Eternity is a child playing, playing checkers; the kingdom belongs to a child."_

_"Hide our ignorance as we will, an evening of wine soon reveals it."_

_"Much learning does not teach understanding."_

_"A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one."_

_"The only constant in life is change."_

_As always, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think. I hope you had nice holidays, and I also wish you a happy New Year! _

**_AN March 5th 2016: I hate to keep you on your toes, but hang in there! Chapter 18 is on its way and I will post it as soon as I'm satisfied with it :) _**


	18. The Road Not Taken

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)**

* * *

**_Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,_**  
**_And sorry I could not travel both_**  
**_And be one traveler, long I stood_**  
**_And looked down one as far as I could_**

\- Robert Frost -

* * *

**The Road Not Taken  
**

The next week passed in a blur of errands. With Esme's and Miguel's wedding approaching in a few days, I was suddenly up to my ears with things to do, even more so than usually. I had offered Alice my help with the wedding arrangements if she happened to need any, and I had been rather surprised when she had accepted. Knowing her strict stance on party preparations, I had thought that she'd decline my offer straight away and insist on doing everything by herself.

Alice, being Alice, had decided to make all the wedding decorations by hand and soon she was a familiar sight at the bookstore. She practically lived there. I could only shake my head at her as she hoarded different kinds of supplies from my pathetic craft section, all the while humming wedding marches and driving me crazy. The other customers gave her amused looks and one of them even stopped to ask her when the big day was.

"Could you even try to pretend that those are heavy?" I asked her one afternoon, hurrying to open the door for her so she could prance her way out of the store. Alice just grinned, her arms laden with two large cardboard boxes. They weren't exactly light or easy to carry, but she handled them as if they were empty. Her small and petite frame made the scene look even more bizarre.

Following her outside, I opened the back door of her car so she could put the boxes inside. A couple of people turned to stare as they passed us by. They weren't looking at Alice or me – it was the flashy red Ferrari parked by the sidewalk that got their interest. Eye-catching was too mild a word to describe Alice's beloved vehicle. The damn thing probably glowed in the dark, too.

I rolled my eyes as a teenage boy snapped a picture with his cell phone from across the street.

Unperturbed by the attention her car was receiving, Alice stuffed the last box on the front seat because it didn't fit in the back. It was no wonder. We had taken advantage of all available space in the car. It was now loaded with various amounts of silk paper, craft wire, at least two gallons of glue and more rolls of white and blue paper string than I bothered to count.

Closing the door of the passenger seat, Alice took a step back from the car and considered it ruminatively.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" I asked, dryly sarcastic.

She frowned and tilted her head, pondering. _Uh-oh._

For a moment she seemed like she was only half-present. I knew where her other half was – it was somewhere in Ithaca, making seat arrangements and trying to decide where the aisle would go and how the bride would enter.

"Candles," she answered eventually. "You do sell candles, right?"

"Yes," I answered warily. "But I don't keep many colors in stock because demand is minimal." I felt compelled to mention that, already knowing better than to mess with the color theme of the wedding. I'd done that mistake once with the silk paper, asking her if it really mattered if it was cerulean blue instead of dark blue.

"The color theme of the wedding is white and _dark_ blue," she had snapped. "Not _cerulean_ blue. _Dark _blue."

If I hadn't known for it to be impossible, I'd have thought that she was going to have an embolism.

But vampires didn't have embolisms. Not even Alice, despite the pressure she was under. For someone else, organizing a wedding was an ordeal, something that caused you that famous pull-your-hair-out kind of stress and made you want to sleep until the whole thing was over. But Alice... as one might guess, she was undaunted by deadlines and stress. If anything, she seemed to thrive in those kind of conditions.

She twirled around on the curb, endlessly optimistic. "Let's see what you have."

"As if you didn't already know," I muttered under my breath as I followed her back into the store.

It turned out that I had exactly the kind of candles she needed – in the colors ivory white and dark blue. Three minutes later, she had piled a heap of them on the counter, at least thirty of each color.

"Okay." She blew out a breath and nodded to herself. "I think I have everything I need."

"You know," I began, giving her a pointed look. "It's not like there aren't any shopping centers nearby. You could have easily stopped by in any of them rather than rummage through my tiny bookstore that doesn't even have a proper craft section. The selection I have here isn't exactly wide."

"Why should I support some greedy, impersonal store chains when a friend of mine owns something so much better?" Alice smiled. "And besides, I knew I'd find everything I need in here. Well, except string lights, but that's understandable."

"String lights?"

She smirked. "You'll see."

I shook my head, half-worried, half-amused, beginning to load the candles in a paper bag.

Alice snatched a pen from the counter and pulled a checkbook out of her pocket, getting ready to pay.

"Listen," I stopped her, giving her a smile. "I was thinking that I'd do this as a gift for Miguel and Esme. You know, provide you with decoration supplies so you can arrange a hell of a wedding for them."

"Esme and Miguel don't want any gifts," was Alice's response. "The only thing they want is for their family to show up. And besides, don't be silly, Bella. You're running a business here, not a charity."

"But – "

"Ah!" she snapped. "Don't get difficult with me. You know it's useless."

Sighing, I complied and began to punch the numbers in the cash register. "Fine. I guess it just feels strange to charge you. I had thought I'd do this as a favor."

"And I appreciate the thought. You have a generous heart," Alice answered. "But I didn't come to you because I wanted your services free of charge. And furthermore, you really shouldn't feel bad about charging me. I'm sure you know money isn't exactly an issue with us."

"Really?" I threw a pointed glance at the bright red Ferrari that was visible through the display window of the store. Looking at it, I felt like I should shield my eyes or otherwise they'd get damaged. "You make it so hard for me to believe that."

"Ha-ha." Alice grabbed the paper bag from the counter. "Very funny. I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to pretty cars, Bella."

"Pretty cars are fine," I quipped, handing her the receipt. "James Bond cars, on the other hand... well, they're something else."

As I was putting away the check Alice had written me and turned around to lock the cash register, I suddenly found myself wondering how many more times I'd repeat that familiar action. One year from now, would there be someone else standing where I stood, serving customers and packing the things they'd purchased into brown paper bags? Would it be someone else listening to the gentle tingle of the bell that hung above the door, smiling at the sound of it?

Or what if that person didn't smile at that sound? What if that person found it annoying instead of charming? Would he or she have it removed?

"Where'd you go?"

Alice's sing-song voice shook me from my reverie. I turned around to face her, giving her an embarrassed smile. "I'm trying to glimpse into the future. I keep forgetting it's your forte."

"Well, it seems that sometimes it's not mine, either. I'm not infallible, as you know."

Giving her a sad smile, I stated, "Well, you're better than me, anyway."

Alice quirked her brow, looking suddenly worried. "What is it? What were you thinking about just now?"

A sigh escaped my lips. "Lately, I've been mulling over something. I keep wondering what will happen to this place when I'm gone. When I become one of you. I know it may not happen in a while. For all we know, it may take years before the Volturi decide to take action. But I keep bugging myself with this issue, even though I don't have to deal with just yet."

Alice nodded. "I understand that." She glanced around her in the little store, her golden gaze studying the wine-red walls and the dark hardwood shelves. "This place... You've made what it is. I'm sure it's very dear to you, and having to give it up someday... I'm sure it won't be easy for you."

"It won't," I admitted. "But it has to be done. And when the time comes... Well, I just want to be prepared in every way. I don't want to leave anything unfinished. I can't just abandon this place and walk away. I still have a payment schedule with the previous owner, and I still owe her some money. She deserves better than to find out that the person she sold her bookstore to just disappeared into thin air."

Alice nodded again, pondering. "Okay. I see. The good news is, your problem is not that hard to solve. My opinion is that it's best that you sell the store, or at least make it look like you're selling it."

I frowned. "I don't get it."

"What I mean is that I could – or anyone of us could – buy it to make it to look like you're giving up your business. The place would still be yours, of course. It would just look like it has a new owner. And that way you wouldn't have to leave the previous owner of this place hanging. She gets her money and you get to keep the store. We could do it all under false identities."

I stared. "False identities?"

"Well, you know. If you have to disapper in one way or another, someone could begin to investigate. Charlie, for instance. He might dig up every information he can to find out what happened before your disappearance. Eventually he'll find out that your bookstore changed owners, and if our name comes up – "

I nodded, raising my hand to signal her that I understood "I get _that_. I was just wondering your words in general." I gave her an incredulous look, leaning closer and lowering my voice as if I was afraid of being overheard. "False identities? _Really? _You do that kind of stuff?"

Alice shrugged. "Passports, birth certificates, driver's licenses... You name it. It's what we have to do if we want to live among humans and repeatedly start over in a new place once in every few years."

I nodded slowly, at first not knowing what to think. But at the same time I felt silly – because how else the Cullens could have made it so far in human societies if they didn't falsify their birth dates and other personal informations?

I tapped my fingers against the counter, beginning to consider her suggestion.

Alice raised her other eyebrow. "So? What do you think?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't sound bad. It's better than many alternatives, like selling this place to someone I don't even know. And to be honest, I'm not that sure if anyone might be even interested to buy a small business like this. The turnover isn't that huge. Many customers are more drawn to bigger stores because they have bigger selections and lower prices. The real value of this place... " I grimaced and shook my head. "Ouch."

Alice's eyes twinkled. "And yet you cling to this place with tooth and nail. It's nice to see that not all people are motivated by money. "

I gave a soft, sad laugh. "This place has fed me and paid my rent to this day. And that's always been enough for me." I glanced around the warm, inviting space and sighed quietly. "I know it won't kill me, leaving this place behind. I know I'll survive it. But still... it's going to hurt a lot."

Alice reached out to touch my arm. "Bella, if it helps, remember that you're not actually leaving it behind. Not really. You can always come back. It'll be completely safe in a few decades."

I smiled, banishing the melancholy. "Decades? People will be living on the moon by then. And they'll have flying cars."

Alice laughed. "That's what they said in the 70's. Believe me, Bella – the world doesn't change as fast as you might think."

I suppose that remained to be seen.

In the evenening, Alice and I huddled up around the coffee table of my living room like on so many other nights over the past week. We had spent several hours making plans for the wedding, exchanging ideas, contemplating on details and writing them down. Not that anything needed to be written down since Alice's memory was flawless – it was more for my benefit than hers.

A few days back Alice had learned that I had a knack for making real-looking paper roses. She had gone ecstatic and had even made me promise to teach her. That's what we were going to do tonight.

"We need to make dozens," she said to me now. "Even hundreds, if possible. As many as time permits."

At last, I received an explanation for the huge stacks of silk paper she'd bought from the store earlier. Apparently she was going to use all of them for the roses.

"I wanted to use real flowers, but it's too cold. They'd die," she continued. "Not that I mind that it's winter. It's kind of exciting – I've never been to an outdoor wedding in February before."

"And you've never organized one. I guess there's a first time for everything."

That was one of the most charming parts of Esme's and Miguel's wedding – the ceremony would be held outside, in the garden. At first I had been surprised when Alice had suggested it, but then I had to admit that I liked the idea. Sure it would be cold, but Ithaca in wintertime was more than beautiful.

The wedding had another special twist as well. Not only the ceremony would take place outside, but it would be held at midnight. I was pretty sure that this was going to be the most uncommon, yet the most wonderful wedding celebration I had ever attended.

I reached out to take another sheet of dark blue silk paper and began to fold it into a rose. Alice mimicked my actions on the other side of the table. Only her sheet was white – we'd agreed that she'd be in charge of making white roses. I had briefly explained her my technique and as expected, she'd caught on instantly. Her input was welcome. Making the roses was slow and precise work and Alice was a lot faster than me.

"Let's keep our fingers crossed for a nice weather," I told her. "But then again, I don't think you would have let Esme and Miguel choose Saturday if you knew it was going to sleet or something."

Alice grinned. "True. Don't worry. The weather will be nice. Well, it'll be cold – but nice. And guess what? The night will be clear. No clouds."

"Wow." I reached out for another sheet of blue paper. "A wedding in the moonlight. You've exceeded yourself. I can't wait to see what you've done to the garden, by the way."

No one had been allowed to see the back yard just yet. I had spent a few days in Ithaca at the Cullens' house earlier this week and Alice had refused to let anyone, even Jasper, near the garden or the living room.

"Well, it's still not done, but I've already worked on a couple of things. I'm still missing the chairs, the lights and these." Alice held out the white rosebud she'd been working on. It looked surprisingly realistic.

"And the people," I added. "I mean, vampires."

She grinned. "I told them to stay away until Saturday evening. I want everyone to get full effect. Esme and Miguel will arrive last, just before the ceremony."

"How many are coming?" I asked, curious. A flock of butterflies took off in my stomach. I was getting nervous, but in a good way. Saturday was only two days away.

"Well, the rest of our family and the Denalis, of course," Alice began to enumerate. "Carlisle and Jasper have a couple of friends around the world, and some of them are probably coming, too. It wasn't easy to reach them because most of them are nomads." She paused, dipping the base of the rose in glue and setting it aside. "Miguel doesn't have a family and he never had a coven of his own. This the first time he meets the rest of our friends. And the first time he witnesses so many vampires gathering in one place."

He wouldn't be the only one since this was the first vampire party for me as well. I wondered how weird it would feel to be the only human there.

I asked Alice about Miguel, wanting to know more about his background before I'd finally meet him on Saturday. I knew practically nothing about him. She told me that Miguel had been born sometime around 60's. He didn't remember much about his human life, except that it had been more or less miserable. He had been an orphan since early childhood and had lived most of his adolescent life in orphanages and foster homes.

"As he got older, he drifted into wrong company," Alice continued, her voice taking a sadder tone. "You know... drugs, thefts, the usual. He kept bumping heads with law enforcement from time to time."

"Wow." I raised my brow, slightly caught off guard by her revelation. "I had no idea he's had such a difficult life."

Alice shrugged. "Well, once you meet him and get to talk to him, you'll probably have trouble believing it, too. He's very different from the man he claims to have once been. Maybe it's because of all those years he had to spend alone, or maybe it's because of Esme. Or maybe it's because for the first time in his life, he has a family around him."

"How did he become a vampire?" I asked, curious. "Do you know who changed him?"

Alice shook her head. "Probably a nomad. Someone who had the habit of preying on people who were unlikely to be missed, like homeless and outlaws. Anyway, by some quirk of fate, Miguel ran into this vampire one night. He doesn't remember much of the encounter – only the attack and the pain that came from the change. But here's the thing; the vampire who bit Miguel probably only meant to feed on him, not to make him into a vampire. Maybe he was careless, or maybe he wasn't that thirsty and got sated before draining his victim dry. Or maybe he trusted Miguel's injuries and bloodloss to finish him off. Be as it may, Miguel didn't die. There was just enough blood and venom in his bloodstream to initiate the change. But it took days before the transformation was complete – the less there is venom in the bloodstream, the slower the change will be."

I could only imagine. Involuntarily, my thoughts drifted to my own, upcoming change, whenever that was going to take place. I'd been told that it was the worst pain imaginable when the vampire venom coursed through one's veins. And that pain would last for days...

I shuddered inwardly, trying to push the thought aside. No point driving myself mad for something that might as well still be months, maybe even years away from happening.

I focused on our task again, and after what felt like hours of twisting, folding and gluing, we decided that we had enough of roses. We had just begun to make stems for them when Alice's cell phone rang.

"Finally," Alice muttered under her breath, barely raising her eyes from her task as she answered and held the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

"Put them in the living room, for now," she answered without even waiting to hear the question. "But don't take a peek at the garden. I'll _know_ if you try." She hung up without further ceremony.

"Carlisle," she explained. "He and Jasper were bringing in the chairs I ordered a few days ago."

"Oh." I realized I hadn't seen Carlisle in two days. My guess was that Alice had him and Jasper running errands around the clock.

I knew shouldn't be counting the days since I had last seen him. I shouldn't.

And yet, I was.

Alice said something. Distracted, I raised my gaze from the dark blue rosebud I was securing to the stem with green tape.

"Ice lanterns," she repeated. "In the garden _and_ in the front yard, or just in the front yard? What do you think? I can't decide."

Pondering, I reached out to take another blue rosebud. "You've made ice lanterns?"

"Of course. They are beautiful and festive. And easy to make."

I had to wonder how she managed to find the time to do everything. Maybe she had more hours in a day than most people had. On the other hand, she didn't need to sleep. Maybe that explained how she managed to get everything done. Or maybe it was because she was, well... Alice.

I told her that whatever she decided, it would look great. I could easily imagine how beautiful the house would look once everything was finished.

I spent Friday afternoon in Ithaca, helping Alice with the last minute preparations and trying to be of use in general. I arranged the blue and white paper roses into bouquets and sprinkled them around the house, and then by Alice's command I lined the driveway of the house and the path of the garden with ice lanterns. She was still reluctant to let anyone near the garden before it was finished, so I guess I was supposed to consider myself privileged when she made an exception with me. We spent a good part of an hour in the garden, hanging white and dark blue string chandeliers on trees and bushes. Alice had made them herself, using different sized balloons and glue dipped paper string to create round balls of different sizes. Another mystery was solved; I had wondered why she had bought so many rolls of paper string from me earlier that week.

When Alice drove me home that night, the joints in my hands ached, and I was tired but happy. It was easy to admit that I had been enjoying the week, as busy as it had been.

Saturday morning dawned crisp and cool. Usually I didn't mind the cold, but now I hoped the temperature wouldn't drop too low. As nervous as I was about the upcoming evening, I was also looking forward to it. Enjoying the outdoor wedding ceremony would be a little challenging if I was at the brink of freezing. And if someone was going to freeze, it would be me. Vampires weren't threatened by chilly weather since they didn't feel the cold like humans did.

I didn't expect to see Alice before the evening. I knew she was finishing up with the garden and busy making other last moment preparations, like trying to decide how many lanterns to put on the porch and things like that. I assumed Jasper and Carlisle were be helping her, provided she'd allow them to touch anything. That's why I didn't expect to see anyone of the Cullens before the evening.

Little did I know what the morning had in store for me.

I was just about to leave my apartment to start my day at the bookstore. I grabbed my coat from the back of a chair where I had tossed it last night and swung my bag to my shoulder, heading for the door. As I was toeing on my shoes and closing the zipper of my coat, I happened to glance outside through the front door's window.

It was still dark outside, but something in the tree alley leading to the street caught my attention. I stepped closer to the window, squinting. The alley was too dark for me to see clearly, but I was able to distinguish two figures standing in the shade of the trees, close to the street. There was something familiar about both of them.

The street lights behind them cast two shadows on the white ground. Then the other figure moved. As he did so, the light caught in his hair.

Bronze was shining in the darkness, shimmering like a polished copper coin.

I froze.

Because I knew that color. I knew that unusual shade of bronze.

At first, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Then it took off into frantic beat.

I withdrew from the window. Leaned my head against the wall. Took a deep breath. Wondered why the universe had decided that I should face my long gone past, face _him,_ right now instead of later. What was the hurry? Why couldn't this have waited a few more hours?

_And they say I'm impatient._

I took another deep breath.

_Oh, Alice,_ I thought quietly, closing my eyes. _Why didn't you warn me?_

Maybe she hadn't seen this coming. Maybe organizing the wedding was taking all of her focus and preventing her from paying closer attention to the futures of her family members. Maybe even she didn't know that Edward would arrive a few hours too early.

I considered my options. I could stay inside for a few more minutes, pretend I hadn't noticed his arrival at all and just wait for him to... _go away_. Then I would go about my day as usual, work a few hours at the bookstore, come home in the afternoon and leave for the wedding in the evening. _Then_ I'd see him. Everything would go just like it was supposed to. Just like it was planned. It wasn't such a huge crime, was it? That was the process I had prepared myself for. Not _this_.

I took a careful peek through the window.

The two distant figures were still there. I stared at them for a while more, as if to prove myself that this was real. That I wasn't imagining this. Imagining _him_.

As I was standing there and peeking through the curtains like a nosy neighbour desperate for gossip, I suddenly began to feel silly. Embarrassed, even. Because this was my home – this whole city was my home. Why should I hide? From Edward of all people?

And besides, why not get this over with right away? I was supposed to meet him at the wedding, anyway. There was no point to delay something that was inevitable.

And it's not like he was going to... bite.

_Ha-ha. Very funny._ I rolled my eyes at my own reasoning, giving a quiet chuckle.

Then, as if in a dream, feeling slightly out of my body, I pushed myself away from the wall. My hands didn't tremble as they reached out to turn the door knob. My knees didn't buckle as I stepped outside into the cold February morning. And my heart – instead of racing out of my chest like it had a moment ago, it went surprisingly calm. Just a steady, slow thu-thump-thu-thump in tandem with my footsteps.

The way my body reacted felt strange, making me feel like I was getting off too easy. To be honest, I had expected to react differently. I had expected a stab of pain in my heart. Not a strong stab, but a faint one. The kind of stab you felt when you looked back at something and wondered if there had been something you could have done to change things. Because in the end, that's all you could ever do. Just look back and wonder. And feel that small stab because you knew there were no certain answers.

But there was no stab, no pain, as I slowly neared the two, silent men waiting in the shadows. Did it mean I no longer wondered? No longer looked back?

Maybe it did.

They had both turned to look as they had heard the front door opening, their quiet conversation ceasing. As I approached them, I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head almost as if I couldn't trust my senses. Almost as if couldn't be absolutely sure if this was real.

My gaze was roaming Edward's familiar features, taking in his presence, and I stopped a few paces away from him as if to keep a polite distance. I knew who the other person in his company was, even though I hadn't taken a single glance at him during the short journey from my front door to the tree alley. I knew it was Carlisle even without looking. I knew it because his presence was familiar to me. It was also real; tangible. There was nothing to doubt about his existence. I didn't need to see him in order to be certain about his presence.

But I kept my eyes on the bronze-haired boy who was still frozen in his seventeen-year-old perfection, almost like I was expecting him to vanish into thin air. Just like he had vanished eight years ago. One blink and he might be gone.

Edward's expression was unchangeable as I kept considering him. It was neutral but wary, almost like he was expecting me to do something unpredictable any second now. But even though he kept the expression on his face smooth, an array of emotions went through his eyes during those few silent seconds. Surprise. Expectation. Bewilderment. Shock. And for some reason, contentment.

Adjusting the bag on my shoulder, I took a quick glance at Carlisle. He wasn't looking at me; his eyes were trained on Edward, too, observing his reaction.

The silence probably didn't last that long, but even so it felt endless. Because it didn't seem like anyone else was going to take the initiative, I eventually cleared my throat.

"Uh... Morning."

Finally, my greeting seemed to unlock Edward from his frozen state.

"Bella," he responded with a small nod. His voice was soft, cautious. Almost like he was still expecting me to explode or something of the sort.

Turning to Carlisle, I asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

Carlisle turned his gaze away from Edward and shook his head. "No. Edward..." He hesitated. "Edward arrived to Ithaca a while ago and he was looking for me. He was told that I'm on my way here and he tracked me down."

I nodded my head, beginning to observe Edward again. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but as he sensed my scrutiny, he gave me another cautious glance.

His passive demeanor was beginning to confuse me. I was sure it was a shock for him to see me after such a long time, and of course it jolted me as well. But what did it help to act all distant and aloof? And besides, he was standing on the alley that lead to my home. It shouldn't be such a huge surprise for him that he might run into me. Hadn't it come to his mind that I might step outside any moment? He should have known to expect it. He was practically standing in my front yard, for goodness' sake.

"You're early," I said to him, wondering if I could get at least a few words out of him. "Alice said no one would arrive until the evening."

A corner of Edward's mouth rose a bit. It wasn't even a half-smile, let alone the crooked grin I had loved so much all those years ago. But it was a start.

"It was somewhat of a... sudden decision," he explained quietly. "A whim. I didn't plan on coming ahead of time."

Hearing the smoothness of his voice felt strange after such a long time. It belonged to another lifetime, that voice.

Edward was searching my face now more openly than a moment ago. It seemed to surprise him that I was addressing him so squarely and without reserve.

"Not that the timing of my arrival matters," he continued. "I'm sure that..." He faltered, giving a quiet, wry laugh. "Well, I'm sure that I'm the last person you wish to see, in any case."

I turned my eyes to Carlisle. "Eight years," I said. "Eight years, and _finally_ he reads my mind."

There was a heavy pause. For once, Carlisle seemed unsure of what to say next.

Edward was looking cautious again. But not very shocked – he seemed to have expected my words.

I considered the two vampires with raised eyebrows. "Oh, come on," I said eventually. "I'm joking. It was a _joke_. A bad one, I admit, but someone has to at least try to break the ice."

Carlisle gave a soft, almost relieved laugh. Then he looked Edward's way.

The latter had gone from cautius to dubious, confusion shaping his angelic features. A frown began to wrinkle his brow.

I studied him a moment. "You don't believe me."

Edward cast a glance at the ground as if to compose himself. As if to make himself believe that I was really talking to him in a relatively civilized manner instead of searching around for a proper hanging tree.

"Well," he began, giving a joyless laugh. "I'm sure you understand why I might find it hard to believe. I wasn't exactly expecting a warm welcome from you. But then again you always had the ability to catch me off guard with everything you do and say. That obviously hasn't changed about you."

"Whereas you're still making assumptions about the people around you and draw conclusions based on them. And then you end up all surprised when someone isn't behaving the way you expected. That obviously hasn't changed about _you_."

Another half-smile. "An arrogant flaw common for mind readers, I suppose."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I see."

For a moment I wondered if my blunt words had offended him because he was suddenly frowning. But then he flicked a glance towards Carlisle, shaking his head. "No, it's alright," he said quietly.

"If you are certain," Carlisle consented.

I quirked my brow. It had been a long time since I'd been a part of a conversation where half of the words – or thoughts – were unheard by me.

Edward cleared his throat. "Carlisle just offered to leave and give us some privacy if we want to talk," he explained when he noticed my puzzlement. "But I'm sure there's time for that later. You must be in a hurry."

I glanced at my watch. To be honest, I wasn't in a hurry just yet, but I said nothing to deny his words. I wasn't sure if I was ready to have a more thorough conversation with him right away. I wanted a moment to process this all. I realized that until now, I hadn't quite grasped the fact that I would see him again. It was almost like I had all along half-expected someone to come and tell me that Edward wouldn't come to the wedding at all.

Had I been secretly hoping for that? That I wouldn't have to see him?

I didn't think that was the case. Of course I had been nervous about today, but it didn't mean that I had been absolutely opposed to the idea of seeing him once again. I had known all along that running into him sooner or later was inevitable.

Maybe I just hadn't been as mentally prepared for this as I had believed.

It seemed that made two of us. Edward shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was restless in a way that was very uncharacteristic for a vampire. He seemed more or less anxious to leave and escape this situation. For some reason, I found it slightly offending. I realized that a part of me had expected something more from him. An explanation. An apology, perhaps. Or at least a few kind words. _Something_.

That obviously wasn't going to happen.

I understood that the situation had caught him off guard and he probably needed time, just like I did. I also knew that he had to come around on his own terms. There were obviously a lot of things we had to talk through, but it took two to have that particular conversation.

"I suppose I'll see you at the wedding," Edward stated. His voice was polite but suddenly very distant, almost dismissive.

I responded with an equal amount of enthusiasm. "Right. At the wedding."

Carlisle gave Edward a look that made me wonder if he too was puzzled, maybe even slightly disapproving of Edward's way to slither his way out of the situation. I caught his gaze, giving him a barely noticeable shrug to tell him that it was fine. Then I turned to Edward again – he was observing the worldess exchange between me and Carlisle closely.

At this point, I wasn't exactly waiting for him to say anything else, but then he surprised me. The expression on his face changed from distant to warm as he gave me one more long look. But there was also something more than just warmth about it. It was difficult not to see the sudden pain of loss in his eyes. "It was... good to see you, Bella."

It took me too long to figure out what to answer. I mean, what could I possibly say to that?

I had no idea how Edward interpreted my silence. After exchanging a gaze with Carlisle, he simply turned around and walked away.

I stood there silently long after he had disappeared into the cold February morning. A part of me was remembering the last time I'd seen him walking away from me. And there it was. That small stab of pain I had earlier been expecting was suddenly pulsing through my heart.

My lungs released a deep breath. "Well," I sighed. "Okay. _That_ happened."

I could feel Carlisle's eyes on me, studying my face. Reading it like an open book. He was good at that. Too good, apparently. Because a moment later he had reached out to touch my arm, drawing me away from my little bubble of misery and memories.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly. It was very considerate of him.

I nodded, wondering who I was trying to convince, him or myself. "Yeah. I'm just a little wrong-footed, that's all. I didn't expect to see him just yet. And here, of all places."

Carlisle nodded. "He didn't expect to see you, either."

"I noticed that." I wrapped my arms around myself, facing away from the direction where Edward had disappeared and beginning to make my way slowly towards the street. Carlisle fell into step beside me.

For some reason, Edward's behaviour bothered me more than it should have. "He couldn't seem to get away from me fast enough."

"I wouldn't worry about his behaviour, though I understand why it must trouble you," Carlisle placated. "Like I said, he wasn't expecting to see you. He just came by to ask my opinion about... something. He didn't intend to stay more than a short moment."

Right. So he had counted on being long gone by the time I would appear. I idly wondered what he had needed Carlisle's opinion on, and why it couldn't have waited until the evening.

We walked in silence for a while. I was suddenly struggling to grasp the situation, trying to internalize the fact that Edward had been here – that I had seen him. It hadn't quite sunken in just yet.

After a moment of silence Carlisle cleared his throat softly, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Perhaps it wasn't just seeing you that had him so unsettled," he now suggested, his tone oddly tentative. Cautious. "Perhaps it was your reaction that... took him unawares."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "How should have I reacted, then? How did he _expect_ me to react?"

He gave a half shrug. "I cannot say what he expected." He searched for words, his voice becoming tentative again. "But I suppose... Well, you know the state of mind he was in when he left Forks eight years ago." Carlisle gave me a glance as if to see how I responded to his words. "All he ever hoped for was that you could have a normal, safe human life. That you could be happy."

I waited in silence for him to continue, knowing that I should hear him out. Carlisle understood Edward better than I ever had.

"Perhaps seeing you now makes him feel both pleased and sorrowful," he continued. "It makes him glad to see that his wish has come true – that you have that normal, uneventful life he always wanted you to have. That you have moved on."

I nodded leisurely. "Okay."

Carlisle slowled his pace, turning to gaze at me again. "But perhaps... Perhaps he feels sorrowful for that very same reason." He paused. "Because you have moved on."

To get more time to think, I turned away from his kind eyes to look at the faces of people who were rushing by us on their way to work. For the tenth time that morning, I felt like I was at a loss of words.

"He can't really blame me for that," I murmured softly. "For moving on. It's not like I was given a choice. And Edward knew what he was doing from the moment he made that decision to leave Forks – he knew beforehand what was to come. I didn't have the same privilege."

"He's not blaming you," Carlisle answered, just as softly. "Perhaps he blames himself. And perhaps he has finally come to fully realize what he lost by making that choice that day."

I was so focused on the conversation and the muddle of thoughts going through my head that I almost walked past the bookstore. It wasn't until Carlisle reached out to touch my shoulder that I noticed we were there.

"Well, if that is the case, he has to get over it," I stated, digging out the keys to let us inside. "_I_ did. I had to. So why shouldn't he?"

I realized how harsh my words sounded, but they were true. And to be honest, I wasn't sure how much sympathy I was ready to offer Edward. After all, it was him who had made the choice that had concerned both of us. I wasn't bitter about that – not anymore. And I was more than willing to put all that behind us, to talk to him about this and clear the air once and for all. But if Edward behaved like he did, if he chose to wallow in the past for the rest of his existence... I just didn't know what to do about that. Or what to think, for that matter. What did it help that I had moved on if he refused to do the same thing?

_If I got over my heartbreak, he can get over his as well._

I flicked on some lights, shrugged off my coat and threw it on the chair behind the counter a little more aggressively than I meant to. The unexpected events of the past hour and the emotions that had come with them were getting the better of me.

Carlisle considered me quietly for a moment before he walked across the store with calm steps. Like always, he sensed my agitation.

"Bella," he began, his voice quiet and calm. "I don't want you to misunderstand what I'm about to tell you. I also want you to know that I'm not taking Edward's side by saying what I'm about to say. You know how I feel about his decision to leave Forks. How I've felt about it all along."

I nodded, wondering what he was going to say. "Alright."

He drew in a silent breath, the look in his golden eyes becoming pensive. "You have to understand, Bella," he began, "that when you have an endless amount of days left to live, you begin to see time differently. The passage of it. The way you experience it simply changes in this life. Sometimes one single day, let alone one year, can feel as long as an entire century. And yet, when you look back at the passed decades, it sometimes feels as though only a second has passed. It's very... contradictory." He paused and gave a soft, almost sad laugh. "You can recall every single moment, every single second of your vampire life, perfectly and without an effort. It's a blessing... but it's also a curse. We are incapable of forgetting. Something that has occurred years, even decades ago... it's still fresh and new in our minds. And it always will be. For vampires, it's a challenge to live in the moment when it's so easy to live in the past."

Pondering his words, I brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "So you're saying," I stated, leaning myself against the counter, "that it's hard for Edward to move on because it's hard for him to forget."

Carlisle nodded. "Yes."

I looked down at the floor. I could understand that – sort of. Or maybe I couldn't. All I could really do was to try to put myself in Edward's place and imagine what it was like to have an infallible memory. To be able to remember every single moment like it was only yesterday; the day we had first met, the moment he had first spoken to me... The first night he had stayed in my room while I slept, the feeling of falling in love for the very first time...

I still cherished those memories. How could I not? But even though those days were past and gone, and even though it had once hurt to know that I couldn't get those moments back, I didn't wallow.

Time had given me distance and perspective. Now I had to wonder if it was a luxury I had taken for granted. Because if it was so different, so much harder for vampires... then how was it ever possible to gain distance, to put the past behind you, if you were able to relive it with perfect clarity for the rest of your life?

A cool, gentle touch on my chin made me look back up.

Carlisle's kind, golden eyes were searching mine. "I don't want you to misread my words. I am not discounting the effort it must have taken for you to move on from what happened between you and Edward. And I am certainly not trying to say that you have it easier because you're a human."

I nodded quickly. "I know that. Don't worry." Hoisting myself to sit on the counter, I let my shoulders drop and took a deep breath. "You're just trying to help me understand what must be going on in Edward's head. To be honest, I never thought about it that way. I never realized how challenging this could be for vampires. It makes me wonder if I did have it easier, after all. I'm not the one tormented by crystal clear memories." I paused, frowning. "Maybe Edward was right, after all. Maybe human memory is like a sieve. And no matter what, time heals all wounds for my kind."

The look in Carlisle's eyes was sympathetic, but sad. "Vampires are not that different. I suppose it might only take longer with us." He paused, holding my gaze. "I'm sure Edward will come around sooner or later, Bella. Perhaps seeing you and talking to you will help him make progress."

"Or maybe my presence only serves as salt to his wounds."

"Or balm." There was a trace of a smile on Carlisle's lips now. "Edward will get past all this eventually. Trust me. It might be a long road to walk, but he'll get there someday."

I considered him for a while. "You walked that same road once," I pointed out carefully. "After Esme. And yet you don't wallow. Despite the fact that the time you spent with her was a hundred times longer than what Edward spent with me."

I partly expected Carlisle to avoid my eyes, but he didn't. "I may have walked that same road for a while," he admitted, his eyes reflective. "But what happened with me and Esme... the circumstances were very different. And in the end, how could I feel sorrow over something that gives someone I cherish so much fortune and bliss? Is it not a blessing to see the person I care for so happy? How could I wallow and be endlessly sad about losing Esme when I know how much she gained by meeting Miguel?"

His selflessness still had the ability to struck me dumb. Even though I knew to expect this from him, his words still left me speechless. Astounded.

"I suppose you're right," I mused quietly after a moment of pondering. "Still, not everyone can think like you do. Not everyone possess that kind of strength and selflessness."

"I don't know if it's a sign of strength," Carlisle disagreed gently. "Or selflessness, for that matter. Just like it's not a sign of weakness to feel sorrow about someone you lost. If anything, that is what makes a person strong. To be able to love with an open heart inspite of the chance that it might lead to heartache."

A smile curved my lips. "Sounds a little masochistic to me," I noted almost teasingly, hopping down from the counter. "Perhaps it means love is for daredevils."

Carlisle gave a soft laugh. "Perhaps."

Walking past him to the door, I turned around the _Open_ sign in the store's window and flicked on the rest of the lights. Peering outside, I watched the steady flow of people and traffic for a moment.

"Maybe that's the reason why I seem to have such poor luck with it," I heard myself musing, at first not completely aware that I was talking aloud. "With love, I mean. Maybe I'm not enough of a daredevil."

Carlisle was very quiet. So quiet that eventually I had to turn to look.

He was still standing by the counter, his golden stare suddenly intense. "What makes you say that?" he asked softly.

I gave a quiet, sad laugh. Maybe to lighten the mood that had suddenly turned melancholy with my simple, almost accidental words.

"I don't know, to be honest," I admitted, but I did my best to explain myself anyway. "I guess I've just always felt that with Edward, I tried my hardest, almost to the point of obsession, to maintain a balance that was never even there. Whereas with Adrian, there was a balance, or at least a chance to achieve one... but the whole thing went awry anyway. Afterwards, I used to wonder if I tried hard enough. I used to wonder if I gave up too soon."

I had often dwelled on that after Adrian had moved out. I had wondered if we should have given it another go and tried harder to get along. The whole thing seemed still so strange – as friends, we had almost seemed to read each other's thoughts. We had been a good fit. But as two people in love, well... that had been another thing entirely. We had been at each other's throats a little too often. There had been good moments as well – a lot of them. But then there had also been that nagging feeling that had kept asking if it should be this way – if it should be this hard. One happy, argument-free day every now and then couldn't make up for ten bad ones.

Carlisle didn't dismiss or question my words like many others would have. He didn't hurry to reassure me, to tell me that I had done everything I could. Instead, he wanted to know why I felt like I did.

"And why did you give up?" he asked.

Shrugging, I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of losing his friendship." I fell silent, wondering where the words had come from, and why they had suddenly come so easily. It had been a while since I had thought about this, about Adrian and me. About the short time we had been in love. About that one sleepless night I had laid beside him and wondered what to say to him once he woke up. About the look in his brown eyes when I had told him that we needed to talk. It hadn't been a worried look; he had known what I had been about to say. He'd have probably brought up the topic himself sooner of later. But still, I had once felt almost responsible for being the one who had brought it up first. For being the one who had made the call to end it.

"I suppose I'd have rather had him as my friend than not have him in my life at all," I continued. "I was worried that if I didn't acknowledge our situation early enough, I'd lose him completely. I needed to save what there was to be saved. Even if it meant that I wouldn't spend the rest of my days with him."

For a moment Carlisle didn't speak, just nodded his head silently. "It sounds to me that you didn't give up, after all," he pointed out gently. "Not really. You just tried to find a way to keep someone you care for in your life, even if you had to sacrifice something else in return."

Sacrifice. It always seemed to come to that. It made me think of Edward. It made me think of the choice he had once made for the both of us.

It was then when I realized that he knew the meaning of sacrifice, too. His choice, his sacrifice, had been to give up his future with me in order to ensure that I'd get to have a safe, normal life. Like me, he had just wanted to save what there was to be saved. Even if it had meant that he wouldn't spend the rest of his days with me.

In that moment, I understood him better than I ever had before. Don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes, someone had once said. I had walked that mile with Adrian when I had been seconds away from telling him that we should go on our own ways. And Edward had once been in that same situation with me. The circumstances had been very different, of course, but for the first time I was able to see through his eyes, to understand what had really gone through his head in that moment.

There was a sudden, soft touch on my shoulder; Carlisle had crossed the distance between us with soundless steps.

"There's nothing wrong about reflecting upon your past decisions," he said quietly. "Just as long as you don't begin to question them too much."

"And what happens if I do?"

Carlisle's golden eyes were suddenly old. Not in a worn, tired way, but in a wise way. "You'll begin to question everything else as well. And evetuanlly you'll lose your way because you'll forget where you are going."

He gave me a moment to ponder his words, waiting until I nodded. Then he turned to the door, preparing to leave, but at the last second he turned back to look at me.

"And for what it's worth, Bella," he said, "I believe you're wrong."

I frowned, confused. "About what?"

"About you not being enough of a... daredevil," he answered. "Because I believe you are. I hope it's not wishful thinking."

His eyes were now unreadable, almost serious. He didn't give me any time to respond to his words as he reached out to touch my chin with his fingers. The touch was light and quick, but it still sent my heart into a rapid staccato. I was sure he could hear how his touch affected me, but for some reason, it didn't embarrass or confuse me. Not this time. Not anymore.

"I will see you in the evening," he told me with a soft tone in his voice.

After that, he turned to the door and left.

I was standing there long after he had gone, listening to the throbbing of my heartbeat. Just listening. Feeling, too.

And eventually wondering what the evening would bring.

* * *

**AN: **The wedding was supposed to take place in this chapter, but it would have turned out way too long. And there's already a lot of things going on in this chapter with Edward thrown in the mix. How do you feel about his sudden appearance, by the way? I don't know why, but I felt like I wanted to jostle Bella a bit by making him arrive sooner than planned. Their reunion was a little awkward on purpose. I wonder how they will behave around each other when they see each other for the second time.

By the way, apparently it is time for the Non-Canon Awards again. Someone was kind enough to nominate this story, and needless to say, I'm extremely happy and flattered. Thank you to whoever thought my story was worth reading and nominated it! :) I think the voting is open by now, so check out the other nominated authors and stories and remember to vote your favourite!

www. thenoncanonawards . wordpress . com (FanFiction is strange with links, so you need to remove the spaces)

I try my hardest to post the next chapter in time. It frustrates me to have so little time to write, especially when my head is swarming with ideas. I hope you readers stay with me despite everything, though I understand why many prefer more frequent updates.

Have a Happy Easter! :)


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